Into The Tracer-Verse!
by Conduit42
Summary: A terrible crime is occurring across the multiverse and Tracer's most intimate and greatest threat is at the center of it: Tracer herself! Starring Lena Oxton as Tracer! Featuring Lena Oxton as Tracer Red, Lena Oxton as Posh Tracer, Lena Oxton as Sporty Tracer, Okazaki Leiko as トレーサー (Tracer), Lena Oxton as Spider-Tracer, and more!
1. Chapter 1

**All The Time In The World!**

#E10

A rush of adrenaline shot through her body, nothing Lena Oxton was too unaccustomed to in life-or-death/fight-or-flight situations. But considering the situation now, she tried telling herself it was unnecessary. Not like he was trying to kill her.

"Pay attention, Oxton!" her opponent called out. A wide arc motioning of his arm and three black-red shuriken flew towards her. Snapping back to her reality, Tracer imagined in her mind she was no longer in their path and her body reacted, leaving a trail of blue light. The shuriken stuck themselves through the solid ground.

"Almost had me there, Genji!" she laughed. Her control over her amazing power was improving daily. Ever since her successful mission defending King's Row from an Omnic onslaught, her confidence scaled higher and higher. Nothing could touch her! _"All thanks to a certain, brilliant scientist gorilla! I owe him all the peanut buttered bananas in the universe. Hopefully when he's back in town from Gibraltar." _Tracer mused.

Red eyes flashed in front of her face and two solid blows from the cyborg Shimada connected to her stomach. The force of it made her stumble and fall backwards.

"If you're going to stay light on your feet, at least make sure you notice when your enemy is about to strike you, **Tracer. **I imagine the combination of the two would make it easier on you, harder on them," Genji taunted.

Tracer huffed and blinked to Genji's right, taking aim with her pulse pistols, on a less lethal setting, of course. Blue energy pellets fired from her weapons, moving faster than one could follow, but the cyborg effortlessly somersaulted out of harm's way. Her shots hit the nigh-indestructible glass that protected the audience of five. Three more shuriken embedded themselves were she no longer was.

"Remember, you two! This is just a spar, go easier on each other, **Genji**," Dr. Angela Ziegler spoke pointedly through the Danger Room's speakers, her ageless brow creased with concern.

"I think the Hero of King's Row can take more than Shimada's handing out, Angela," said Blackwatch's commander Gabriel Reyes. He had a smirk on his face from observing his friend's worry.

"He's right, you know," said Overwatch's commander Jack Morrison. He ran a hand through his blond hair. "Her power should more than enough bridge the experience gap between herself and him. If she were paying attention, that is."

"I am paying attention! Sir!" she exclaimed backflipping and blinking past the projectiles aimed for her. She returned fire, spraying and praying for a lucky shot, but no such luck.

"Oh, yeah. She's definitely a winner," Reyes replied.

"Ha, ha! How exciting!" came from the mighty Reinhardt Wilhelm. The towering man gave all his attention to the two fighters. "Blackwatch's finest warrior against Overwatch's brightest! Oh, when can I see a match between you and Commander Morrison, Reyes?"

"Are you kidding?" Reyes laughed. "Think we all know how'd that go."

"Please say you're kidding, Reinhardt," Dr. Ziegler interjected. Reinhardt shrugged and shared a smile.

"I don't think Overwatch could survive any fight between Gabriel and I," Morrison joked.

"Exactly, that's what I meant," said Reyes. "Sorry, Crusader. This'll have to do for you."

"This **is** just a sparrin' match, yeah?" asked Jesse McCree. "Not the start of some kinda "proxy war" between you and the boss man, boss man?"

Reyes smirked. "Afraid it's as plain as it looks, McCree. Just some entertainment, nothing more."

"Right, right," McCree said, absentmindedly cleaning his Blackwatch revolver. He did manage to give the spar more than a passing glance, however. "That Oxton lady knows how to dodge, I'll give 'er that."

As the fight continued, Tracer couldn't believe the abundance of energy she had. Her acrobatics weren't taking a toll like she was used to them taking. _"Adrenaline, you can't even feel the pain!" _she recalled the song lyric in her head. Was Genji eyeing her with suspicion? "I promise I'm not juicing, bro."

"_At least he looks like he's having fun. I'll bet he's smiling under his faceplate." _

"Yo, Shimada! Are you having fun at least?" the cadet asked her practice foe.

Another leap, a front flip, more shuriken from Genji. He paused before bending one robo-knee and hyperextending his other cybernetic leg against the Danger Room's silvery matted floor. "I was hoping for more of a challenge from you, Oxton."

Tracer's smile didn't waver. "Well,_ I'm_ having fun." She gave a front flip of her own and mimicked Genji's stretching. Her opponent's thick eyebrows furrowed, and she imagined he was staring at her with mild confusion.

"There's a lot less talking during these kinds of things, you know?". He sounded confused, so that helped her mental image.

"I know, I know. I promise, I'm working on it. It's just, I get so nervous during these kinds of things, I just start talking, and talking, and talking, and some more talking. Even with the talking with my hands that sets the Commander off a bit," Tracer said with a quick gesturing of her hands. "I can't help it. It's not all bad though, I find it helps distract my fearsome foes, so no one sees me go for the Pulse Bomb!" she finished, while preparing to throw her signature and favorite gadget.

"No explosives allowed," said Reyes, Morrison, and Ziegler in unison, Morrison and the doctor sounding more forceful. Tracer gave a light sigh while Reinhardt began to argue for its use. Immediately realizing it was futile, she settled to continue a barrage of blue pellets. She thought she heard Genji chuckle as he deflected the rounds.

"Yes," he began. "It makes for a great tactic!". Almost imperceptible was his wrist flick, a single shuriken launched upwards from behind his back caught Tracer's attention. She eyed its rise with suspicion before realizing it wasn't what she should be focusing on. _"Oh, damn it!" _she thought as he leaped at her.

"Visual misdirection," he spoke as he used a combination of his strength and dexterity to disarm her of one of her pulse pistols from her grasp and aimed it at her forehead. "Works better for me in my line of work."

Her eyes widened as he pulled the trigger and a flash of blue sparked out.

"_Left!" _she shouted in her mind. That familiar brief sense of weightlessness returned, and she was left as she wanted. "Getting a bit reckless, are we? Tryin' to take my head off now?".

"Be sure of yourself! This is on a safer setting, right?" Genji asked before tossing it aside. He rolled his neck and stretched his arms before reaching the wicked sharp blade attached to his back.

Tracer couldn't help but stop herself to watch. When he drew the sword and spun it in his grasp, a single green dragon followed the sword's arc. It was arguably the coolest thing Tracer had ever seen and she thought just about everything involving Overwatch was cool.

"_How does that thing work?! Is it like a hard-light technology ala Vishkar or is it… magic?". _"Shimada, how do you turn the dragon on? Is it tech or magic?" she asked excitedly. He might be about to skewer her, but she couldn't help it.

He studied the blade briefly. The curved black and red monstrosity seemed to weigh his on his mind more than his body. "Only a Shimada can control the dragons," he said solemnly. "And I think I'll keep you guessing about its nature." Her foe broke into a sprint right for her and let his blade swish through the air at her.

Tracer's eyes widened as the arc fell at her. She ducked low and blinked underneath Genji's legs. "Wait! I can't chuck a tiny little bomb, but he gets to swing his sharpened glow stick?"

"Live for the thrill, Tracer!" called Reinhardt from the speakers. He gave her a thumbs-up.

"Oh, whatever," she muttered. "The very least you could've said that one line you like." She braced as he shoved her back and swung at her again.

"You know the one, Genji! Ryuoko jin-!" Tracer interrupted herself with a fake and harsh hacking cough. "Yeah, I said that right. Right?" The green dragon past through the matted floor as Genji's blade cut through the ground. A tracing of blue danced all around him. From behind, she gave him a solid shoulder charge and staggered him.

"Wait, is that just a hologram? Lame!" Blink.

"Would you silence yourself!" Another wide arc. Blink.

"No, you!" she retorted with zest. Another blink. Genji studied her pattern well and placed a kick right to her chronal accelerator.

"No!" exclaimed Tracer. "My chronal accelerator!" Genji paused, eyeing her with mild concern.

"I'm melting!" she quickly followed, one hand clutching her chest, the other writhing in mock pain. Genji flicked his wrist and three more shuriken flew at her.

"Uh oh." Once more, Tracer blinked… right next to her discarded pulse pistol. Her smile grew. "And now, for the grand big finish!" She closed her eyes and focused. Shimada's light footsteps were closing on her. Her mind showed her exactly where she was standing seconds ago, and she willed herself to return there. The familiar weightlessness came…

…but didn't leave her. She opened her eyes and was astounded to see the room she was in was a blue hue. Everything was blue. Genji was blue, his dragon and sword were blue, the captivated audience of five was blue, everything was blue. Except for her. Her silvery grey and orange training uniform kept its own colors.

"Absolutely wicked…" she whispered. Her wonder quickly shifted to worry as she realized it wasn't ending. This was completely wrong!

"_Be calm, Lena…hold it together. You're fine, everything is fine." _She examined her lifesaving chronal accelerator and found no signs of damage. "This is fine…"

She decided to wait out this strange event. What else could she do? Fly from the Danger Room to Gibraltar? _"Well, I could if I were having a regular, boring malfunction. But this is something else.__"_

* * *

She guessed minutes had passed before her body began floating and retracing all the steps she took around the frozen Shimada. It was dizzying and oddly beautiful to spin and look up at the ceiling and have the almost blinding blue lights stare back.

"_Beautiful... wait!". _The most brilliant plan Tracer ever conceived formed in her mind. As her amazing Recall worked its magic, Tracer took aim with her pulse pistols and fired at her foe. 20 rounds left both of her pistols, but slowly wormed their way towards their target. Curious, she gave her signature gunslinger spin and her pistols reloaded, readied for more firing. She continued the process of firing, reloading, and firing until you could barely see Genji mid-footfall.

"_Might sting him, but that oughta fix his steely eyed glares! Hope I didn't overdo it…"_

In the span of one breath, the world returned to its nature colors, Tracer was placed far out of reach from Genji's blade arc, and 120 pulse pistol rounds hit their mark on his cybernetic body.

"AGH!" his pained howl echoed, as they peppered his body. He fell to one knee, then both knees and let his sword fall from his grasp.

Tracer's eyes widened at her fallen foe. She looked at her own hands before dropping her weapons and running to his side. Seconds passed and the angelic healer was by both of their sides. Her impressive caduceus glowed yellow as a stream of glowing nanites rushed into Genji's body, healing his bruised and fatigued form.

"Holy shit, lady! How'd the hell did you do that?" the southern gunslinger questioned.

"I-I don't know!" she exclaimed as Morrison, Reinhardt, and McCree crowded her. "It's like… like…"

She felt lightheaded.

Tracer stumbled and found herself in the grasp of the boisterous Crusader. "Watch yourself, my friend. Looks to me you've done a number on yourself as well as Genji!"

"Too much, all of this. All of you," Mercy muttered.

"I am fine!" the cyborg exclaimed. He cast her a guarded look. "I've never seen you move like that before. Completely imperceptible to my eyes." He rose to his feet rather quick causing his legs to give out. McCree shouldered his weight easy enough but remarked on how heavy the cyborg was. "What was that burst? Where are you keeping that…" he paused and cast a glance at the stream still connected to his body. "…I am fine, Dr. Ziegler. What was that, Oxton?"

"I still don't know! Ask again in like, a week when Winston's available. He's my guy on all this timey-wimey stuff."

Now the healing stream and all eyes were on the young cadet. Lena met Reyes' amused eyes.

"May need to switch rosters, Jack. This one here…" he said, pointing at the youngest of the group. "She's got a lot more hidden potential than we all thought."

"And let O'Deorain get her claws on her? That sound good to you, Tracer?" her commander addressed her.

Tracer tilted her head and clicked her tongue. "Can't say that it is, sir."

"No, you'd much rather join the Crusaders and carry a massive rocket hammer!" exclaimed Reinhardt. Tracer patted his gigantic bicep and then gestured to her own.

"But my arms, they are small. And rocket hammers are taller than McCree."

"Hey now, I'm an innocent bystander!" McCree protested.

"Innocent?" Reyes inquired.

"Yes. Innocent."

"Lena," Mercy called her attention. "How are you feeling now?"

Tracer stared herself up and down and around. She smiled. That massive drain she felt was gone. She flexed her arms.

"Catchphrase!"

Well, at least Reinhardt laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Indomitable Time Racer!**

#E786

Lena overlooked the racetrack from high above in the bleachers. Outside of the stadium, she could hear her adoring fans calling out her stage name. Maybe she should've gotten rid of her signature windblown style like her wife suggested. Or at least taken better care hiding her chronal accelerator's blue light.

"Time Racer! Time Racer! Time Racer!" they cried, hoping for a sighting of the exciting heroine.

Her dear companion, her greatest fan, Emily clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "I get what they're going for but it's not like saying "Tracer". "Time Racer" just isn't as aesthetic."

"Is "Time Racer" that bad?" Lena joked.

"Somebody needs to be fired," replied Emily. Lena smiled and took her wife's face in her hands and took in all the features she loved about it. Her warm smooth toffee eyes, those freckles that left Lena weak behind the knees. The way the brilliant sun lit this kindhearted woman's hair ablaze. If Lena could freeze this moment and live in it forever, she would. All the things she would do for her, to her…

"Yup, that's a nice face, alright," she whispered, patting it gently.

Emily laughed and kissed her. "If only I could read your mind, Lena."

"It's all PG in the ol' noggin', I swear it," the former Overwatch agent swore.

Emily hummed.

They shared each other's company and observed the racetrack.

"Alright, I can't wait anymore. Pull 'em out," Emily begged. Lena's eyes widened.

"Here, in the stadium with my adoring fans outside? I don't think my family-friendly reputation could survive such a scandal! But if you insist," she shrugged before sliding off her jacket. Her white chronal accelerator pulsed with energy and so did her heart.

"Lena."

"Oh, if we get caught! But I could never deny you." She reached for her belt and…

"The bag, you! Let me see what's in the bag!"

"O-oh! Yeah, right, okay," Lena stuttered. She reached into the sturdy black garment bag, grabbing at her new helmet and pulled it free. The celebrity athlete said, "I thought that's what you meant." Her wife smirked with knowing eyes.

Emily smiled at the black and grey helmet with its yellow-and-red spinning "T" emblem and its orange glass plating. She huffed air on the glass and used her sleeves to shine it until the sun gleamed off it even more.

"I really do love your sense of style, Emily. This'll make my enemy motorists jealous as all hell tomorrow."

"Only the best for you, my love. Pull the rest of it out, let me see my finest work."

"Nope," replied Lena.

"Wait, huh?"

"Sorry, that's as good a sneak as you get. Got to leave something to the imagination."

Emily's face did that cute thing when Lena said something dumb. She loved it. "Leave 'em wantin' more and all that," Lena shrugged.

"But I designed it!"

"And you did such a great job. Really wish you could've seen it."

She laughed as her arm found itself in for a surprise light swatting. "Question though. I've seen the specs on the outfit. Got the granddaddy of all bulletproof glass on the helmet?"

"Lena, you're going on footraces. With racecars. Need something to keep the crawlers out of your mouth. And…" her wife's hold on her tightened a bit. "It's a crazy world. Never know."

"Who would ever think to attack Time's Person of the Year and the Sweetheart of the U.K. at a charity for the disenfranchised youth of the world?"

Emily seemed to blanche at the mere thought. Lena saw fit to change the tone.

"And this material on the suit'll make me… bounce?"

"Big help from Winston. So, if you somehow find yourself as a hood ornament for that surly Omnic RD-X53, the suit'll ration out the impact's force throughout it, reducing the trauma to your sweet bod. And making you bounce."

"My sweet bod has been blessed by such care," Lena gazed deep into her eyes. "Thank you."

"It was Winston's genius. I just made it look neat." She pursed her lips. "You should really call him sometime. He misses his friend, Lena."

"That's funny, my name is Lena too! I wonder if I know her…" When her joke fell flat (apparently) she followed with, "Ah, I know. But it's like every time I talk to him the topic is "Let's get the band back together and punch some terrorist in the face", or "Overwatch needs you to come back, Lena", or "The world could always use more heroes, Lena".

"You're the one that came up with the last one."

"Which makes thinking of polite ways to say no even harder."

"Why'd you give up on Overwatch, Lena?"

Lena couldn't meet her eyes anymore after that.

"The world gave up on Overwatch. Why can't I?"

"You were the poster child. It'd be like if Spongebob starting decrying Krabby Patties because the world convinced him to."

"God, you're a nerd."

"It'd be a cardinal sin is all I'm saying. At least have him over for dinner tomorrow after your charity race. The topic could be something not Overwatch related, I'm sure of it."

"Hmmm… well, yeah, you're right. I miss the big guy too."

"I even still remember his favorite."

"Deep fried peanut buttered bananas…" Tracer said fondly. "Yeah, let's have him over!"

"Yeah, it'd be- wow, are they still out there?" Emily asked remembering the adoring fans.

"_She's getting better at tuning them out. Nice,"_ she mused.

"Does it ever get on your nerves?" her wife asked.

"Eh, you can get used to anything, I hear. Seems true to me."

"Hmm, well. What's your plan for tomorrow?"

"Uh… run? Moderately fast."

"And?"

"Do… tricks?"

"Let people enjoy your presence. You're still a hero, no matter how much you don't want to be."

Lena sighed.

"Who's the hero?"

Lena gave a small smile. "I am the hero," she replied with false meekness. Emily's smile grew.

"Who's the hero?"

"Uh, me thinks… I'm the hero!"

"Who's the hero?"

"I'm the hero!" she howled into the air. The stadium echoed it back.

"Stadium might have you beat."

Tracer gently kicked a bleacher in rebellion and pretended she broke her foot.

Well, at least Emily laughed.

* * *

The next morning went fast. It was all hustle and bustle with extra bustle. Lena stretched at Emily's behest, suited up, flexed for a few minutes in the mirror, stretched even more at Emily's behest, called Winston to ask if he would be her honored guest (at her own behest, but no response), asked her wife why her fancy wing gauntlets were holsters for even fancier pulse pistols ("You never know. If only you could see into the future…") and practiced shaking hands. She knew there'd be a lot of that when she won.

It was easy to make an entrance. When you're Tracer the Time Racer ("Redundant" to Lena but it sells), the greatest athlete (Time 2075 and every other media in creation said it, not her. She's humble like that), the world watches what you do.

"_Emily said to make it count, so that's just what I'll do. One of these days, I'm gonna make it count all over you. Wait, what?" _

The stadium teemed with life. _"The air was pregnant…" _Lena stifled a laugh and slid her beautiful black helmet on. "With anticipation!"

Blink. The crowd fell silent. Was it her?

Blink. The crowd roared with new life. It was!

"Cheers, love!" she began as she circled the center of the racetrack in front of 200,000 people, the microphone in her helmet carrying her voice far.

"THE CALVARY'S HERE!" the crowd replied. As she bathed in their applause, she considered the benefits of being a cult leader.

"You've got time to showboat, Captain," her wife said over her earpiece. "Give them what they want."

And so, in an amazing display of agility, she performed stunning stunts. Backflips and blinks, cartwheels and blinks. A blink here, a blink there.

"Oh, oh, say hi to the kids for me, honey?"

She laughed. Of course, she hadn't forgotten. Several consecutive blinks and she was in the stadium, sitting amongst the disenfranchised youths. They were mostly stunned silent, but the surrounding fans could give the Horizon Lunar Colony a run for its money.

"_Families lost during the Omnic Crisis, but here they are, just to see me. I'm their hero? I'll make it worth their while." _The effect she had on them amused her, only a bit. "Nobody wanting to say a quick how-do-you-do?" she asked feigning sadness.

"CAN YOU SIGN MY CAST?" a young boy in an orange shirt exploded forward, stepping over a boy in a blue hoodie, brandishing a fluorescent green cast. The blue hoodied boy looked at him as though he were used to the younger's antics and found them to be uncool. _"A pair of brothers."_

"CERTAINLY!" she returned with more enthusiasm. Upon examining his shirt, she saw it had a likeness of herself wearing her classic orange jumpsuit with "Tracer" in white on its leg. _"Oof, what was I thinking wearing that?"_

She sat amongst the youths, taking photos with them and answering as many questions as she could ("Yes, Doomfist is still behind bars. Yes, Winston and I still talk? No, I don't know when Overwatch is making its big comeback…") before Emily warned her that her showboat time had to come to its unfortunate end.

With a wink and the blow of a kiss, Lena backflipped from the bleachers and blinked all the way to the racetrack, smiling at all her competitors on the way to her spot in the back. Even RD-X53.

"_Bloated scrapper. Who thought chunky Omnics as thick as Mako Rutledge was a worthy creation?"_

"Looking good, love. How's your chronal accelerator charge?" Emily inquired.

Tracer looked at her new black harnessing device, such a powerful thing to keep her rooted in this world, such a small thing.

"Looking damn fine if I do say… wait…" her chestpiece was sparking?

She felt lightheaded.

The world was spinning and soon, blue-tinted images of an outbreak of violence in the stadium. Gunshot aimed for her, she had blood on her but not her own… whose… is she holding… the image was fading. If only she could focus…

"Lena! Is your microphone acting out? Did you hear anything I just said?" her wife's concern was audible. "Do we need to cancel?"

" N-no! I'm alright. I heard everything. I'm giving those kids the damn good show they deserve," she spoke harsher than she meant to.

"Lena, are… are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, love. I'm fine. You'll see how fine I am after this, I promise."

Emily gave a chuckle. "But the scandals!"

An announcer's voice filled the stadium. "TRACER. ARE YOU READY?"

Tracer gave three consecutive Blinks and a thumbs-up as signal.

"MOTORISTS. ARE YOU READY?"

A chorus of revved engines, each struggling to be overheard despite the others.

"AUDIENCE. ARE. YOU. READY?!"

Tracer's world was filled with joyous cries. _"Sound ready to me…"_

A massive drone descended from the clouds above. On all sides were flashing lights.

Red. Yellow. Green.

Blink. Blink. Blink. And Tracer was only slightly ahead of the powerful hovering racecars. They were fast, but the Indomitable Time Racer was faster. They were only as close as she allowed. She'd make it good, but she wouldn't allow herself to lose.

For the charity, of course. And as she blinked around and over and under her competition, her strange worry faded. She was fine, everything was fine.

"Oy, lay out a fat beat for me, won't you, Emily?" she asked while leading the never-ending looping charge around and around.

"Yes, ma'am! Coming up, _Mein Kampf _on Audible."

Tracer held back a choking laugh. "Cheeky!"

The warm, sweet, bouncing tones of her favorite song played, _Lone Digger _by Caravan Palace.

"Oh, hells, yes." This race was hers. She briefly wondered if her opponents already knew that.

A honking of the horn caught her attention. She didn't even look. Only one would be so bold.

RD-X53.

She made a talk-to-the-hand gesture and blinked along her way. Her victory was nigh!

Another honk?

"Oh, what you bloated man-child-bot? Can't you see I'm winn- wait!" her shock was visceral. The Omnic racer was trying to run her over! She blinked onto his hovercar and glared into the black windows. Bright grey lights stared back at her. A sign of illegal modding!

"Hope you kept the receipt on your faulty modding, RD! We'll go return them together… after I'm through winning!"

Using her toned legs, Tracer forced herself off the hoverracer and back onto the track, blink, blink, blinking on with her day.

"What was that, Lena? Did he try to hit you?"

"Yup, RD-X53's got a nasty little virus from an illegal mod. Such a shame."

"Good thing, you crossed the line like, 5 Blinks ago and won already."

"Huh?"

The crowd had been cheering her victory and jeering RD-X53's attempted murder.

"Huh. Go, me!" She recalled herself back to the finish line and blinked onto her would-be killer's car. She stood, taking in the applause, hitting the Charleston.

"_Oh, yeah! Everything's coming up Lena Oxton!" _she grinned wildy.

But she felt a growing unease. Something about this felt familiar to her… but what?

Tracer saw the glint just in time.

_BANG!_

The round had been fired from the audience and into Tracer's once pristine helmet, fracturing the orange glassing. The force of it sent her flying off the hoverracer and onto her back, bouncing her slightly with each roll.

Her wife's voice managed to reach her through the incessant cries and stampeding of the crowd and the ringing in her head.

"Lena! You are not dead! Say something, please!"

She groaned.

"Oh, thank God. Listen, I need you up, now!"

"Yup, yup. Lemme just… reca-AGH!" her head was splitting from that shot. _"Something very high-powered. God… who could… oh, no."_

"E-Emily!" her mouth struggled to move. "It's… Widowmaker! Leave the stadium, like yesterday!"

An accented voice filled the stadium over the cries of the fearful audience. "She can't, Lena. She's here with me." Everything felt cold. Anger filled her heart.

"LaCroix, I'll… I'll kill you!"

"I'm counting on it. Come get her, **hero**."

Tracer growled and forced her body to rise. Her head might've fallen off, but it wouldn't have concerned her. Emily needed her and she needed Emily.

"WIDOWMAKER!" her voice had such hate in it, she would've been surprised if she wasn't being powered solely on it.

Every Blink made her vision wavy and dim, but she had more than enough urgency to ignore it.

She found her easily enough. Widowmaker wasn't hiding. Her grip was tight around her beloved's neck, a silvery pistol pushing into her back. Emily looked so… defiant. When she saw Tracer, her eyes lit up.

"If you're finished playing the fool, child… I need something from you," her voice stoked something vengeful in Tracer.

"Tickets to my next…" No jape came to mind. Tracer couldn't think straight. She could barely see straight. She shook her head. "You want your arse beaten black to match the blue? What the hell could you need from me?!" she seethed through her teeth.

The dead-hearted woman had the nerve to smile. "Well, I need you to make good on your threat and kill me."

The world was silent. Tracer could feel the sirens and see the flashes all around her, but the world stifled them. She looked at Emily, confusion on both their faces. "Why?"

"Why? I have your wife in one hand and a loaded gun in the other and you ask me "Why"?" Her laugh was dry. She paused as if to consider the question more. "Because I need you to. I… want you to."

"_Why is this happening…?"_

"Lena…" her wife called out. She was holding back tears. _"Oh, you sweet, strong, kindhearted woman." _Tracer looked deep into her eyes.

"Oh, I'll kill you, LaCroix. Let her go and I'll kill you dead."

"What then, will you do if I just shoot her?"

Tracer could feel the blood pounding in her ears. "Don't you dare-!"

_BANG!_

Lena couldn't believe it. And from the look on her face, neither could Emily.

She was at her side, cradling her in an instant. Widowmaker stepped back. Not to flee, but to watch.

"Lena… oh, Lena…" her dying love reached to touch her face. Tracer ripped her ruined helmet off and held her hand close to her face. _"Why?" _was all she could hear in her mind. _"Why? Why? Why?"_

"She's sick, Lena… this is... on Talon… please don't give her… what she wants…"

The words made no sense to Tracer. No sense.

"Oh, the children… is everyone else safe?" Emily's voice cracked. Lena could only stare and sob. She looked all around but only her, Emily, and LaCroix were left.

"Yes," she offered. She would give **everything** if only to wake from this nightmare.

"My hero," her wife smiled. Blood was seeping from her mouth. "God, I love you."

Her hand went limp in Lena's grasp. She wailed as the light in her wife's eyes faded. She looked all around for someone to assist her, to save her. She pled with the universe but found it cold and indifferent. She fixed a murderous stare on her old adversary.

"You…" Lena snarled. Her fury shook her body. The world blackened until all she could see was Widowmaker's cold, cold indifference.

"Come now, Oxton," she gestured as if bored. "What was her love worth to you? Her death?"

"**EVERYTHING!** You killed the woman I loved! And for that, YOU ARE GOING TO DIE!"

Tracer blinked and her hands were around Widowmaker's throat. The force of her rush sent them both flying over the bleachers and onto a hoverracer. She landed as harshly as she could on the assassin's leg and heard something _snap!_

"Is that all you've got, girl? You'll need to do-" Tracer interrupted her mocking reply with a strike to the throat. She began to pummel her, not letting up even to breathe. She gave a guttural cry as she hit her, feeling her throat dry and crack up. She didn't care. She couldn't stop, she wouldn't, she wouldn't…

"_Don't give her what she wants?"_

_Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!_

"_Give her what she wants."_

_Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!_

"_Don't!" something shouted in her._

Tracer paused and saw all the blood staining the white portions of her suit. Emily's… and Widowmaker's.

"…please," she had the nerve to croak. Her face was swelling, and she definitely couldn't see so good anymore.

Her fury reiginited, Tracer wrapped her hands around Widowmaker's neck and squeezed, hard. "And why shouldn't I?!" she challenged herself. With each "Why?!" she shouted into the world, she squeezed harder and harder.

"_If you do, her suffering ends. Let her live, let her suffer. Let the world see you as a hero. Let Emily's memory remain pure to you. She asked you to let her live. Can you deny her dying wish?" _some loud, incessant, infuriatingly logical part of her challenged her vengeful side back.

"I'll let her suffer…" she said, her grip easing up.

"…n-no… p-please…" Widowmaker was begging her now. Was… was she crying? "I… can't bear this life anymore…"

"Why couldn't you have just done yourself in, Amelie? Why couldn't you have left me alone?"

"I feel nothing for your sorrows… why not?" her foe spat back.

Tracer grabbed the assassin's throat and brought her close until they were face to face.

"I won't kill you. God, help me. I'd rather watch you live and suffer through your growing conscious. That's what it is, isn't it? Your mind is startin' to clear up and your heart's growin' three sizes bigger and now you understand, you feel enough to lash out. And it makes you sick, its unbearable. You can't stomach how dead you were when you were ruining lives and taking them. So, you tried to die your way. With me. I'm just spit-ballin' here. Stop me if I'm wrong."

When no replied came, Tracer continued. "Well, it won't be me! I'll give you over to some doctor who can fix that cracked psyche of yours and I'll stand before you all healed up and I'll see it in your eyes. I'll see the eyes of someone fully goddamn aware of how despicable they were, and you'll see in my eyes, you will understand in my eyes how much **I hate you!**"

She let her grip on her foe's tight-fitting outfit go. Her limp body laid, battered.

"I'm afraid, Lena. Of all I've done. I don't want to see it, I can't…"

Tracer's eyes bore deep into Widowmaker's. She wasn't lying.

"Because of you, I'll never love anyone as much as I loved her, and I'll never hate anyone as much as you. Suffer!" she snarled. With a flick of her wrist, her wing holster opened and placed a pulse pistol in her hand. Using it, Lena struck Widowmaker in the face once more, leaving her unconscious.

Her fury, fading, all she could feel was hurt. She used a discarded phone and sent a message titled "I NEED YOU" to Winston. She wrapped Widowmaker's blue hair around her wrist and blinked back into the bleachers. There, she wrapped her long hair around the bleacher's, essentially tying her down.

Then she cradled her wife's lifeless body and stared helplessly into the sky.

"Am I still the hero, Emily?" she silently begged for any response.

Her phone vibrated from Emily's jacket pocket. She grabbed it and stared at Winston's caller ID photo, the two of them smiling and posing. She answered the call.


	3. Chapter 3

**Along Came A Spider Bite!**

#E626

Lena yawned. This couldn't have been a more boring stakeout if she had tried. Her legs were cramping, the suit was starting to ride up, and the concrete rooftop she was crouched on wasn't doing it any favors.

"Oof, gotta hydrate more," she said to no one while rolling her neck.

"Are you talking to me?" her girlfriend Emily asked.

"Yes…?"

"Oh, sorry. What did you say?"

"I said, uh, hey, maybe taking intel from Sombra, a known felon, was a big mistake. Then I went on a tangent about steaks and all the mistakes you can make when making a steak," Lena prattled.

"Hey, I'm still listening, Araña! No need to be a dick," replied the reforming (see "in the process of", "not quite") career criminal Sombra.

"Oh, hey! Buddy! Uh…" Lena replied nervously.

"I'm listening."

The Sensational Spider-Tracer made an obnoxious swallowing sound that could be heard over the microphone. "What do you call a steak that you made a misteak while cooking?"

Silence.

"Oh, damn, sorry. I said the punchline early."

Sombra groaned but at least Emily laughed. "So dumb. Now apologize to our new friend, ST."

Lena stretched her legs and backflipped away from the rooftop's ledge. Sticking the landing, she said, "I'm sorry (you're a killer and I have a hard time trusting you), Sombra."

"Remember, I came to you for help, hero. I could've just stayed in my room, minded my own business, hurting no one, stealing millions from Hana Song's bank account but I just had to grow a conscious."

"And I accepted, showing how much I was willing to put aside our past encounters to work together for a cause that is morally and spiritually beneficial to us both!"

"Shows how desperate you were, Araña. And keep your voice down!"

"You just yelled at me!"

"I'm not the one doing reconnaissance in the most dangerous city in France! Out in the open, I might add!"

"Yeah, well… wait, you were doing what to Hana Song's bank account?"

"Uh… nothing?"

"Send it back with a sorry note."

"Oh, come on! She just made that new _"Hero of My Storm" _film. She's not looking for a few millions, I promise."

"With a sorry note, Sombra," Lena reaffirmed.

"Okay!" Emily clapped her hands over her mic to draw their attention. "Well, I love _The Sombra & Spidey Show_ as much as anyone but-"

"How come her name gets to come first?" the Spider-Tracer interjected. Sombra scoffed.

"_The __**Spidey & Sombra**__ Show_, but-"

"Hey," Sombra began. "Change it back."

"Don't interrupt her, criminal scum."

"How about I send your dumbass hack boss at the Robust Reader site your… secret identity?"

Lena gave a false gasp. "The nerve! You wouldn't dare!"

"Uhm, yeah, could you not do that? Please?" Emily silently pleaded.

"Hmm… well, if this Captain America reject keeps getting on my nerves!"

"Oh, are you kidding me? The good Captain, GOD REST HIS SOUL, didn't trademark wearing red, white, and blue! So, what, my costume has all three of those colors? I'm freaking British!" Lena exclaimed, replacing her New Yorker accent with her native British accent to accentuate the point. "Heard of the goddamn Union Jack? And another thing!"

"It's not even like, a **good** secret identity! "Oh, we have this new superhero calling herself Spider-**Tracer**! Who is she really?!" The whole world knows Lena Oxton is **Tracer**, why does no one know **Tracer** is **Spider-Tracer**?" Sombra challenged the absurdity of it.

"First off, you egg, it was the media who took to calling **me** Spider-Tracer. I guess you could say..."

"Stop," said Sombra.

"...it just stuck to me. Because I'm sticky." Sombra's sigh said it all, yet she decided to add, "So goddamn lame," for good measure.

"And don't be getting mad with me just 'cause you can't keep a secret so damn well like me, Olivia "Sombra" Colomar. Take a class in misdirection! Nobody has any reason to believe I lived through that staged explosion."

"Unless they're me," Sombra replied.

"Yes, unless they're a noisy, nosy, know-it-all criminal."

"Oh, my God…" Emily gave a defeated sigh.

_Clack! *clatter*_

"Oh, wait…" Lena whispered. Her ears could hear something from afar. "Wait… wait…"

"Waiting," replied Sombra. Emily shushed her with haste and whispered, "She's doing the proportionate hearing of a spider thing!"

"Oh, #%$& off!" Sombra gave a hysterical laugh. "That's not a real thing!"

"Are you really still talking? Just shut up for a second!" Lena said, then yanked her mask off before Sombra could retort with some crude remark.

Damn it, she could still hear her.

She ran a hand down her short, shiny brown hair and let her deep breathing exercises kick in. She could hear… talking, laughing, metal crowbar opening a wooden box, the fun click-clack sound that magazines make when you're loading them into heavy pulse rifles.

"_Well, well, well, well, well. That's five wells. This is serious stuff." _She scooped up her mask and ran along the rooftops of Paris, doing her best to track all the noise the gang was making. Easy enough, they were being very unnecessarily loud. Like they had nothing to fear.

Well, they still don't because Lena Oxton, the Spider-Tracer was coming.

* * *

Slowing her pace, she could easily hear the conversations within the construction yard. _"Ugh, stomach-curdling stuff. Such gentlemen."_

Using her enhanced hearing and trademark "stick 'em powers", the Spider snuck and crawled around the construction building, effortlessly navigating her way through it.

"Found your boys, Sombra. Honestly can't see you running with this type of foul-mouthed crowd…"

"Well, when you're a young orphan living around gangbangers, you surprisingly enough… become a gangbanger."

"Um, sorry about that."

Sombra sighed. "Me too, Araña. But we've all got problems, right? Like, you for instance. You're like… double wanted? Is that Double Jeopardy? No, wait, that's something else."

Lena narrowed her eyes. She got where Sombra was going with this. Her annoying voice faded as she recalled her peculiar circumstance.

Ever since the good Captain America, Gabriel Reyes tried arresting Commander Jack Morrison and got into that life-or-death (in their case, death) royale rumble and Overwatch was disbanded, the U.N. placed an arrest order on every single former agent of Overwatch. Some quietly surrendered, some hid, some went vigilante, some just gave into the despair, but a lot more gave into the rage and bolstered Talon's forces. So, Tracer being Tracer was bad but easy enough for her to handle while still showing out with the heroics ("The world could always use more heroes and I'll be danged if I'm not one of them!").

Months later, the terrorist organization Talon decided merging human and animal DNA would push humanity to new heights, all thanks to Dr. (Lena used the term as loosely as she could) Moira O'Deorain. A spidery specimen somehow got free and escaped. Apparently, she does have a sense of humor and requested Widowmaker retrieve it. Lena found and fought her. In the ensuing chaos, the spider bit both Tracer and Widowmaker giving them both the most amazing of abilities.

And made their fights much more dangerous. Combing her impressive new strength, speed, and endurance with her control over time-space ("Thank you, Slipstream!"), the fights still managed to go in Lena's favor. Until Talon decided to experiment on Widow's body even more than they had and made her into…

"_I'm sorry, Amelie. But I haven't given up on you. I will fix this."_

After Widow escaped from the scene of all the destruction she wrought and word got out about the hybrids, the world was understandably disgusted. Now the remaining spliced DNA and all altered by it were to be destroyed. Unable to survive the growing scrutiny, Lena came up with the brilliant plan to fake her death, pack up with Emily and Winston (who wasn't even a hybrid, but a talking gorilla who was a member of Overwatch gets a target all the same), and escaped to New York where the nigh-dystopian sprawler of a city could swallow them whole. But as she continued to "improve" her new neighborhood, word got out she was a hybrid with access to Overwatch tech. And now, she's "double hunted".

"_The costume and heroics couldn't be helped though, not with Winston in the garage making all this sweet tech. Like this fantastic synthetic webbing and these web-shooters! Even went out of my way to pick up a New Yorker accent and prolong the evitable. I might have a problem…"_

"…called "responsibility," she muttered.

"Loser say "wha"?" her old punching bag asked.

"Wha-? Oh, nothing, you egg," Lena replied and shushed her. She had found her old friends, the Los Muertos. "Long way from home, aren't you, fellers..." she whispered, observing the gang members examining military-grade pulse rifles.

"Apparently, my new president has something of a "prevailing conscious" about gangs in Mexico. He's really cracking down over there," Sombra paused. "Who'd ever expect to find a Mexican gang in France? Really throws anyone tracking them off their tail."

"Except for the Spider-Tracer!" Lena quietly exclaimed.

"So goddamn lame…" Sombra replied.

"No, you."

"Can you two just… ST, what do you see?" Emily asked.

"I see with my little eyes… around 30 Los Muertos with Soldier 76 cosplay guns and... Helix Security rocket launchers!"

"Holy $#!^…" Sombra and Emily said simultaneously. The Spider rounded on the hacker. "This shipment's a lot more severe than you said it'd be! Am I gonna see one of them climb into a South Korean MEKA next?"

"Oh, who cares about you!" Sombra seemed to be rather annoyed now. "Someone left false information out there and I took it like a sucker. When I find them, I'll-!"

"Tell me who's the culprit so they can be arrested?"

"I call you "Webhead" for fun, but you keep saying stupid $#! and I'm starting to believe you do have webs for brains. You can't trust the law to do what its supposed to do!"

"Something, something I have hope for a better future, Sombra. The world just needs…"

"Idiots in tights beating people up in dark alleys to dismantle the systematic oppression of the downtrodden and the abuse of the Justice System?"

"Gee, when you put it like that it sounds like—"

Shouting. A volley of pulse rounds was flying right at her!

"_Ah, $#!^, move!" _she commanded herself. Detaching from the ceiling, she landed several floors down, right in the center of the Los Muertos!

"LENA! What was that?" she heard her girlfriend's concern. Lena sighed. "Gonna have to call you back, love. The kids wanna play." _*click*_

She studied each and every gangbanger surrounding her. They all managed to get a hold of some form of weaponry. Some held the heavy pulse rifles, some found construction tools they were more than willing to bludgeon her with.

"How'd you know I was here? Who told you?!" she began, attempting to make herself sound more threatening than usual.

"You have a bright ass neon light on your chest, cabron! We ain't blind!" one spoke up while the others laughed her.

She looked down for a moment and saw her spider-themed chronal accelerator was the brightest thing in the lamp-lit room. She sighed. _"Well, darn."_

"Okay!" Lena began, raising her hands in mock surrender. "This is totally cool. I… wanted you to see me. I gotta talk to y'all about something. Let's just… lower the guns and we can rap for a moment before I kick your collective asses."

A massive hybrid man stepped forward from the circle. She narrowed her eyes upon seeing the scaly texture of his skin. "Holy eczema, if that ain't Ronny "Rumpelstiltskin" Robledo, the Scorpion! Son of a gun. You miss prison that much, vieli ami?"

Robledo laughed and waved a pincer claw at her in greeting, his massive stinger tail swishing behind him. "Spider-Tracer! What a pleasant surprise. Looking to purchase something?"

The Scorpion. He came from Mexico, but Lena didn't meet him until New York. Your everyday, run-of-the-mill murderous gangster. Completely irrelevant until he got his once-hands on a vial of spliced scorpion DNA. From where, he never would say. The results were… very poor. His new form reminded him of a toned-down version of Amelie LaCroix.

The name still hurt to think about. "Nah, just here to talk. And web the stuffing out of each and every one of you," she added in an audible whisper in the pin-drop quiet room.

"Hmm, okay. And what ever could you come to talk about with me?"

"Word on the digital street is you got a spider problem. Besides me, I mean," she said. "About 3x times the size of a normal man, infinitely stronger than one too."

"Hmm… don't sound familiar, webs."

"She's got this many legs," Spider-Tracer added, gesturing to her glowing spider-emblem's design. "I'm sure you've seen her before."

"Sorry, not ringing any… did you say "she"? You know her? Relative?"

"Ha, ha. Is funny joke, comrade. WHERE IS SHE?" her voice carried throughout the construction building. Some of the gangbangers thought it was funny she was getting angry, but the older heads were looking nervous now.

"Such fire!" Scorpion chuckled like they were sharing a joke. "Look, Spider, say I do know where your creepy crawly cousin is. You got a real bad $#%^* ! habit of interfering with our business. Costing us good money. Depriving us, really. Why would I tell you for free? Got something to make it worth my while?"

"Actually, I just was hoping to appeal your better nature and talk it out of you… buuuuut, I could beat it out you for old time sakes." More laughs.

Scorpion smiled with a dark mirth. "Start beatin', Araña. KILL HER!" _"Oh, well. The best laid plans and such."_

Pulse rounds were fired but nowhere near her. She somersaulted over the hail of pulsefire and blinked amongst the shooters. One tried to beat her with his rifle, but she caught his arms and swung him into two others. "Look, I know you guys missed me…" One groaned in preparation and swung his sledgehammer at her. She blinked to his left and watched him smack one of his friends.

"…but you're aim is getting better!" she gave a boisterous laugh while she returned pulseshots with web-shots. "Ha! Oh, damn it. Said the wrong "your." Can I get a do-over?" Someone politely requested she stop being alive. Her hearing picked up the sound of something sailing through the air at her. She used a thug as a springboard and backflipped over the cinderblocks.

"A new challenger has appeared!" Spider-Tracer threw out a sticky grenade ("Good naming skills, me! Thanks, me!") and watched it get smacked aside by the Scorpion. It exploded with webbing and stuck several of his men to the hard ground.

"Well, you're a mean one, Mr. Pinch!" Lena quipped. "Never could squash this spider. Something change in the last 3 years?"

"Never had Overwatch tech before. New year, new gang."

Her eyes narrowed. _"Overwatch tech? Well, well, well, well, well, well. That's six wells. This is deteriorating quick!" _"Where'd you get it from, if you don't mind me asking?"

In a flash, he pounced through the air after her, his massive stinger trying to skewer her. She backflipped away and threw two gangbangers at him. He smacked them away harshly, knocking them unconscious. "See, the thing is, I do mind you asking. I mind a lot."

"But whyyy?" she whined. More pulsefire came her way. Leaping up, she shot a strong web-line at the shooter and pulled herself towards him and kicked him into another. A bold one managed to grab her from behind, but realized he preferred being on solid ground than in the air when she leapt up with him hanging on. He panicked, let go, and landed in a crate full of unloaded rifles.

"Yikes, did you guys hear that? Something's broken. Hey, guy, did you break something?"

He was crying. Definitely broke something.

_Thwack! _Scorpion's tail hit the back of her head, sending her flying into a metal support beam, bending it and dazing her. She would've enjoyed the rest, but a harsh and bony pincer clenched her leg.

With his enhanced strength, he flung her around their arena, smacking Spider-Tracer into more support beams, the ground, even into some of his own men.

"_Got the proportionate speed, strength, and aggression of a scorpion. Think I lucked out, personally."_

She shot a web-line at him as he threw her off the edge of the construction building into the night air and pulled him with her.

"Goddamn you, bug!" he screeched as they fell.

"Arachnid!" she corrected while pulling him into a spider-powered punch. _Thwack!_ "I guess you didn't read that copy of "The Wonders of Arachnology" I mailed to your cell, huh?"

"Shut your ^%$#&*^% mouth already!" Scorpion demanded while choking her with his stinger. Feeling the intense steel-crushing pressure on her neck, she shot a web, blindly. It latched onto support beam several stories above them. Following the momentum, the pair crashed into another part of the building. He landed on top of her and sank his ungodly sharp teeth into her shoulder, piercing skin. She howled in pain and felt a burst of panicky adrenaline. The Spider let several quick blows connect to her adversary's abdomen and jaw. The force of her might sent him flying across the structure. She watched him scuttle into a shadow. Her breathing quickened. Her damn shoulder ached.

"Come on, Scorpion! Give up, tell me the whereabouts of that grande spider you saw, and I'll make you sure you get a room with a window this time!" Her head felt heavier than usual. A clatter from behind almost her jump out of her skin and she swung wildly, striking a finished wall with the force of a sledgehammer. A low laugh echoed and surrounded her. She clenched her fists and readied herself. Her ear buzzed. A call.

"Decline. Message. _"I'm busy."_ Send," she quietly commanded her suit's VI. Only Emily, Winston, Sombra, and Commissioner McCree had the suit's contact info, but they'd have to wait. _"Okay, Oxton… plan?". _Grabbing her remaining sticky grenades, she tossed them in the mass of beams surrounding her. Wherever she heard a scuttling, the grenade was thrown out. They exploded quickly, covering their areas with synthetic webbing.

When she didn't hear any string of violent Spanish curse, she shouted, "Welcome to the spider nest, Scorpion! There's no escaping me now!" _"Ooh, that's kind of cool. "Spider nest". Gotta use this more."_

"I don't want to escape, Araña," she heard from behind her webbing. "I want to rip your suit apart and peel the skin off your bones first. I want to feel your blood trickle down my face as I use your skull like a goblet!" _*scuttle*_

"Oh. Well. Can't, uh… can't let you do that either." _*scuttle*_

"Stop me," she heard him say, much closer for comfort. The Scorpion's stinger tore through her wall of webbing and tried to sting her. Ducking under it, she wrapped her arms around it and pulled with all her might, swinging him into a thick mass of webbing. With a burst of speed, she blitzed him with her fists, dodging his wild strikes and lashes. She was moving so quick; she could see her own chronal accelerator light tracing her movements. _"Goddamn, I'm the absolute best!" _she thought in between her numerous blows.

An uppercut, an above the belt punch, another uppercut, a below the belt kick. Her barrage was unstoppable!

"Ugh…" the Scorpion slumped against the webbing wall. She quickly added another layer, wrapping him tightly, making sure he was all tucked in.

The Spider-Tracer panted and hyperextended her arms to stretch them out. _"My goddamn shoulder!"_ "Okay, Robledo. I tried asking nicely. Now, I'm gonna ask you extra nicely. Could you pretty please tell me where you saw the big spider?"

"%*^. You," the Scorpion replied. Lena clicked her tongue.

"Guess I gotta be extra, extra nice. You're forcing my hand here, man. Could you pretty, pretty please tell me where the big spider is?".

"I hate you. With all my heart."

"Aw, thanks, love! But I… hey, uh…" her vision was swimming. "You wouldn't have happened to secretly have stung me without noticing, right? Because I'm… I'm feeling…"

"Oh, ho, ho. The hero's got a little tweak, huh? Hero's got a habit, hero's got a habit!" her foe's taunting remarks came.

She felt lightheaded. In her mind's eye, the world was all blue save for the red and white of her costume. She stood side-by-side with a blue somber-looking Sombra in front of the doors to a giant… estate of some kind? A chateau. Something shrieked at her in a language she forgot.

She blinked and shook her head. "That wasn't you, was it?" she said, staring down at Scorpion.

"Ain't got no idea what you're talking about, *$ ^%. Now, get me out of this-!"

She shot a web over his web and leaned in real close. "I saw a chateau just now. All up in my head. Don't know how or why. But it can't be unrelated. The next words out of your slobbering, snaggle-toothed mouth better be the name of the number one chateau on your "Chateaus I've Been To!" list."

She gripped the web gag and yanked it off, taking patchy hair with it. "AGH! You…" he spat out more strands of the stuff. "Coming around here, beating on me for info you already know." He eyed her with an annoyed look. "How'd you already know?"

"The name. Now." Something big had just happened to her and she couldn't even spare the energy to reflect on it. She was too close now.

"Chateau Guillard, you ^#%$*#^ *&%$! Ya happy now?!" he roared at her.

"_Guillard?" _Lena smacked her forehead. "Oh, goddamn it, of course!" _"Oh, Amelie. I should've guessed."_

"You did me a huge favor. I'm forever thankful, Robledo."

"Wanna return a favor for a favor? Clear out that spider so I can use the spot," he asked while squirming in his web cocoon.

"Yeah, no worries, I'll call the local authorities for you and your crew, so you don't have to lift a pincer." He cursed at her for a while before tuckering himself out.

She stared at the Scorpion for a while. "Well. Ta." She turned on him.

"You really think the police don't know what I'm doing here? I'm paying them off, you dumb-"

"Well, anybody could've figure that out. It'd be too easy to quietly release you. Unless someone had proof!" She gestured to the eye lenses of her mask. "Got cameras in them, ya big dope. Been recording this for the past hour now. After it blows up on the internet, they'll extra-extra-extradite you back to your president with the "prevailing conscious" and have to do some house-cleaning too, I imagine. Hmm." She nudged him ever so gently with her foot. "I bet he missed you."

He started to look a bit sick now.

Lena clicked her tongue. "Well. Ta." She started to run, then she spun around and webbed his mouth shut. "And no biting the help, you $#%^*!" she shouted as leapt out of the construction building and swung away with her webbing.

She conference called Emily and Sombra. "Oh, my God, you guys! I know where Amelie is!"

"Chateau Guillard," her and Sombra said at the same time. "Oh. When were you going to tell me?"

"We called, but you said you were busy." Sombra sounded... _off._ "Didn't want to distract you."

"You _didn't_? Are you, uh, you okay?" she asked, only mildly concerned. "Never heard you so low before."

"Just use that proportionate speed of a spider and hurry. I already have a ride secured for us."

"Oh." Her mind flashed back to her vision of standing next to Sombra. "You're coming with?"

"Yes," she said plainly and left the call.

"Sweet Ems, what's troubling our ex-con?" Lena asked her.

"Maybe it's best she explains. Think it'll be good for you both."

"Huh?"

"Oh, just swing faster, you!"

"Okay, dang…" _"One of those days, I guess?"_

* * *

Lena and Sombra spent most of the boat ride in complete silence, only breaking the silence to examine Lena's nasty scorpion bite ("Shouldn't you be watching the road?" "We're in a boat and it's on autopilot. Now hold still."), uploading the footage of her battling the Scorpion and the Los Muertos gang ("Shouldn't you be watching the road?" "We're in a boat. It's on autopilot."), and just feeling the awkwardness of it all ("I'm gonna say it again." "¿Eres autista?"). Somehow, they made it through the experience together.

As the castle came into view, Lena had to ask, "What's going on with you, OC? You seem… OOC."

Silence.

"Get it? 'Cause your name is Olivia Colomar and the initials for that it is "OC". And coupled with "OOC' which is internet shorthand for- are you even listening to me?"

"Oh, you know," Sombra confirmed.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yup."

"Cool. Cool."

Sombra sighed again. Spider-Tracer studied her. "Should've known she'd come here."

"Is that what's troubling you? Look, I should've at least guessed it sooner than you. She was my friend before… everything."

"After the crisis was over and I was orphaned, I didn't care about much. I've seen some nasty $#!* in my day. Gang $#!* , terrorist $#!* . You kinda… quit caring after a while."

"_Okay. Bonding. Yay."_

"When I got recruited by Talon and I met my team, Widowmaker was on it."

"You mean Amelie LaCroix?" Lena corrected.

"No, I mean WIDOWMAKER. Azul? The cold-hearted #$*%! you had to slap around a few times."

Spider-Tracer's jaw clenched. Her eyes stung, but why, she wasn't sure.

"I get bored fast, just do. When I get bored, I get nosey. You see, I was thinking, "A blue-skinned, gun-toting dominatrix? This is going on my highlight reel!" she chuckled without humor. Lena pulled her mask off and stared ahead at the approaching castle. She had a feeling she knew where this was going.

"Hacked her file. Had to dig real, goddamn deep to find it. Really wish I hadn't, Tracer. Talon brought her here to torture her. To change her from Amelie LaCroix, your friend, ballerina, wife of Talon's biggest nuisance into that cold, dead woman you know now."

Shame was all she felt at that moment. She remembered how frantic her husband, Gerard was. The sorrow he felt was infectious. Lena had liked Amelie's colorful humor, and her presence, (sometimes for the less respectful reasons) and she found herself, along with all of Overwatch, worried for her return. Then she did.

"You know, in one of the videos, an Overwatch crew came here at her husband's request. You can really hear them turning everything upside down, just searching. So... _desperate._ The camera was always on her. She wasn't gagged or anything but she never even tried to get their attention. Just listened. She was already dead by then. Already Widowmaker."

"I wish I could've stopped it, Sombra." They were at steps that lead up into the chateau now.

"Yeah, I know you do. The thing that really makes me sick is she knew what I had found. I don't know how, but she knew. And she smiled about it. I decided me and Talon could no longer be on each other's contact list. I left, did some… solo work for a while, watched them from afar. But that thing with the spider?"

"We're going to save her," Lena interrupted.

"I leaked info about the hybrids. Figured I'd feel like a hero, just a bit anyway," she continued. "Sorry, by the way. Seems to have caused you even more issues."

Lena didn't know what to say. She never would've expected any of this from her. Any of this.

She shook her head and put a conflicted hand on her companion's shoulder. "We're going to save her."

Sombra stared at her. "Ever the hero, huh?".

"The world could always use more."

The duo observed the ancestral home. Feeling the déjà vu, she looked her companion over and thought how strange life had become. They began their ascent into Chateau Guillard. Not long before they found evidence of a brawl. Tracer ran her gloved hands over some of the darkened holes she had found in the stone structure.

"Definitely spent pulse rifle rounds," she confirmed.

"Los Muertos," she spat.

_*scuttlescuttlescuttle*_

"That ain't Los Muertos, lady."

"What?" Sombra gave her a confused look. "Oh, oh! You heard something?"

"Yeah, scuttling. This way," Lena said, leading them forward into the Guillard family home. Between the light of her chronal accelerator and Sombra's flashlight mod on her machine pistol, there was an ample amount of light for walking through the unlit halls. Not more than ten steps in, they were greeted by thick webbing strung about everywhere. It hung in long strands that caused Sombra to make a discomforted groan. Lena herself wasn't phased by it, which she found rather curious.

"How are you okay with this stuff touching your skin? All on your face, in your hair…" the hacker sounded bewildered.

Lena shrugged. "It's weird to me too. Wonder if the spider bite got rid of my overwhelming arachnophobia."

"You were afraid of spiders, huh?"

"Oh, crippling so."

Sombra swatted every strand of webbing touched her which left her pretty preoccupied as they wandered through the halls. Lena was sure this place was once a beauty, but the years hadn't have been kind and neither were its new owners.

"_Get. Out."_

Lena paused. "What was that?" she asked Sombra.

"I didn't say anything?"

"_GET. OUT." _The voice rasped at her. It felt so close, too close…

"I'm sorry, are you not hearing this?" she asked, feeling her defined muscles tense.

"What is happening right now? Scorpion smack you around that… oh, my *#& ^#$% God."

Spiders. So many spiders, all crawling out from pockets deep within the webbing and the dilapidated walls. They formed a massive circle around the duo. Tracer and Sombra stood back-to-back, very uncertain of any plan.

"_Nope, arachnophobia's still there. I guess I'm not afraid of their webs. That probably has its own fear. Oh, you're babbling again, Lena. Well, %$^* you, of course, I am! Too many goddamn spiders!" _She had half a mind to recall all the way back to the boat.

"Hey, Oxton. Let them know we mean no harm," Sombra said, sounding serious.

"Are you serious? I can't talk to spiders!" Spider-Tracer exclaimed, her heart beating faster than it should've.

"But you can understand them, right?"

"I… I don't think so?" she replied. "Uh, hello…" she addressed them. They stared at her in silence. Just... taking in oxygen. "You can't talk to spiders, Lena…" she muttered under her breath.

"_Too many eyes. You only need two good ones. Not even two if you're Ana Amari, the Cyclops."_

"Well?"

"Nothing! They're just… there."

"Tracer… that voice you heard. Was it… you know?"

"Oh, hell." _"I should read more. Maybe do puzzles. Get a degree in quantum physics. Take more IQ tests."_

Lena took a deep breath. "…Amelie?" she spoke out into the chateau's moldy, dry air.

"_Get. Out." _the voice was a low whisper.

"Can we, uh, talk, Amelie? Been a good while, hasn't it?" Lena offered.

The sound of several sizes too large legs echoed throughout the chateau.

"I-Is that her?" Sombra asked inanely.

"Well, I think…" Tracer cleared her throat. Her mind was racing. "Amelie," she said in a clear tone. "I need to talk to you. I can help you."

"_Help?" _she asked.

The spiders in front of Lena scattered to her left and right. A massive, hairy leg slammed the open space in front of the women. The light they cast reflected from her 8 eyes. And her slick, black fangs.

"_I don't deserve help. Go away," _the crawling horror once called Widowmaker replied.

Sombra stepped from Tracer's back and stared at the beastly spider before them. She stood several feet taller than them both combined. "Hey, Azul," Sombra said. Then she fell silent.

"Yes, you do deserve help. Talon cracked your mind. You couldn't help what you were doing. And this…" Lena said, gesturing to her new form. "No one deserves this. Let us fix this."

"_The spider… whatever was in it, it burned away the effects of Talon's indoctrination. It was maddening. Everything enraged me. Everything made me wish for death. My mind is free. I am free, Lena. Free to be alone with the knowledge of the horrors I committed as Widowmaker. Free to replay the death of my husband at my own hands. Even if you could somehow cure me of this horrid form, what then will I do? I have nothing but these creatures that heard my anguish and came for me."_

"You couldn't be more wrong. You were my family, Amelie."

"_Family brings more despair. I have enough and I see no reason to share my anguish with you,_ _vieil ami."_

"Winston, me, Sombra, we want to save you from this sorrow. Let us. Please."

"She doesn't want to come with us, does she?"

"_I don't."_

"She doesn't."

Sombra took on a thoughtful look. "Not even for revenge?"

Tracer looked between her and Amelie. When Amelie only stared in response, Tracer said, "I think she wants more information, Sombra."

"Talon's the kind of organization that won't ever die of old age. We need to kill it ourselves. We need to bring the fight to them. I know just how to start too, it's perfect."

"_How?"_

"Yeah, how?" Lena asked.

"Moira O'Deorain."

The spider's fangs twitched. _"I would like to kill her."_

"She said she would like to kill her."

"Who wouldn't? She's squirreled away in some not-so-secret Talon HQ in the Australian wastes. We grab her, get her to unsplice your DNA, you kill her, and you get to start your path of revenge wasting ever single bastard who proudly wears that lame insignia."

"_Making revenge her reason to live wasn't what I had in mind, Colomar. But if not that, then what? What can I promise her?". _Tracer didn't want to admit it out loud, but she was truly desperate. Why couldn't she think of something more inspirational than just another damned hitlist?

"_Lena."_

"S-Sorry, I… I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

"_I will join you. I will hunt down Talon's force, and I'll kill every one of them. After that is done… I suppose we'll see what life there will be left to live in me."_

She sighed, out of grief and relief.

"What's the verdict, Oxton?"

"She'll come with us. Some fine oratory skills there. Take a class?"

"I know what I'd want if I were her. We'll right this wrong together."

"A cult leader in the making." She sent a message to Winston explaining her need of a large cargo hovercraft and living quarters.

Sombra snorted and watched spider-Amelie slowly maneuver back into the shadows. Her horde of spiders dispersed back in their homes. "I know what you're thinking, Oxton. In your eyes, I gave her a poor reason to live."

"When it finally came time, I didn't know what to tell her. You got her willing to come with us and I couldn't," Lena said. Her body felt heavier than usual. "I won't give up on a brighter future for her, but I need to be realistic too."

The hacker looked surprised and informed her so. "This gives you time to think of that better future, doesn't it? We're on our way to being those heroes the world needs so badly, I think."

"Maybe," she replied. She stepped out of the chateau's webbed dining hall and into the main courtyard overlooking the murky waters surrounding them. "God, I hope so," she whispered to the world while staring into her mask.

Her reflection looked so sad.

* * *

From a place far away and yet so close, a woman wearing a white jumpsuit and a golden chronal accelerator observed the Spider-Tracer.

"Yes," said Lena Oxton. "You'll do quite nicely."


	4. Chapter 4

**The Blinking Blade of Heaven!**

#E1945

She opened her storm-grey eye and took in the warmth of the world. Rising slow, she stretched her body, smoothed her jet-black hair, and inhaled the sweet-smelling air. _"You bless me every day, Shining Light! Thank you." _The wind picked up and tossed more cherry blossoms into her reduced field of view.

Leiko Okazaki touched her black eyepatch as part of her early morning routine. She reflected on why she lost her right eye. It made her remember to be cautious. She wondered if the blue hooded figure that watched her knew how to be cautious. Leiko couldn't decide for certain since it watched her from so close a range.

As part of her early morning routine, she opened her traveler's bag and set up her portable tea set, dropping the strong-scented leaves into the pot and filling it with water. The set was her favorite piece of equipment she brought along with her; besides the lifesaving chronal accelerator she always had no choice but to wear strapped to her. Not that she minded. The soft yellow light it emanated was soothing to her. As her tea rose in temperature, she held a hand to her abdomen, where Mei-Ling Zhou's icicle had hit her only half a year ago. She had deserved it at the time. While gently massaging it out of habit, Leiko smiled fondly and prayed for her friend's success. She hoped her husband had lived through his experience at his brother's hands like Mei believed.

Her tea was at a good temperature. While she drank, she wondered if the hooded figure knew they had been discovered.

Leiko sighed. _"Oh, leave me be, rogue. I would hate to have you to kill you."_ She downed her enriching drink and packed her set into her bag. Standing, she readjusted her once pristine white breeches and tearing blue vest. She hoped to find a good river to wash in, particularly soon. She tied her red and yellow sash onto her waist and donned her favorite conical rice hat. _"Ready for another day!"._

The woman once known as a terror, the Blinking Blade of Heaven continued her path through China's rebuilding countryside, humming pretty songs she had forgotten the lyrics to. The hooded figure followed too closely to be stalking her, but too far to want to be addressed by her. _"You are not very good at trailing targets,"_ Leiko thought. She would know, of course. _"If you wanted to deprive me, you would have done so by now. What then, do you truly want?". _Something struck her as familiar about her fellow traveler, but what, she couldn't tell. For a moment, her chronal accelerator felt as if it had some invisible weight attached to it. As fast as she noticed, it was gone.

The path she took led her to a small but busy village. It was no time at all before the bustling villagers noticed Leiko. They watched her with anxious eyes. _"I am sorry,"_ she lamented her actions that earned her such stares.

They all waited for her to speak. Judging from the poor quality of life they lived, they must not have heard the vow she broadcasted over the late Empress's formal channels. She understood that perfectly. "My name is Okazaki Leiko," she began her address. "For too long, I have been so blinded by the Blazing Sun that I could never see the torment it had for those under its harsh rays. I never understood the orders I carried out personally were just crimes against the soul of humanity. I thought myself to be a divine weapon fit only for use by Heaven's chosen. I'm sorry it took so many lives to learn how wrong I was."

"HA!" a loud cry rose. A dirty man with greying stubble staggered his way to the front of the crowd. Leiko could smell his alcohol before she saw it in his hand. "Look at this, everyone! Our dead tyrant's mangy lap dog has come to apologize for her sharp bite!" he laughed until he could hardly breathe, his face red from his breathlessness, fury, and intoxication. "Is that why you came all this way from Tokyo, hound? To say you're sorry?!". He stumbled his way forward, intent clear to all. A fearful man grabbed hold of the vengeful man and held him near. He screamed to be released, but his fellow would do no such thing. He settled for putting all his rage into one good throw of his strong-smelling _baijiu_.

The liquor sailed through the air. She closed her eye and waited. Falling short, the opened alcohol spilled its contents on her once white breeches, adding to its unfortunate myriad.

"Damn you, Satou, you'll get us all killed!" the villager holding the man shouted. Many assented to the assessment and did nothing as the drunk was about to be beaten.

"Stop!" Leiko commanded and the world was silent once more. "I am the one at fault. I've had worse than spilled _baijiu_ on me." Satou glared up at Leiko's good eye, silent.

"I came to atone. I've been to exactly 138 villages in between this province and Tokyo. All to offer whatever help required of me."

They all just stared at her. Even the hooded figure seemed conflicted, although she must have been imagining it. She imagined a lot of things.

"Can you stop the bandits that come to deprive us?" one elderly man in a wheelchair ventured. It's as if everyone was holding their breath.

"Yes," Leiko affirmed. "I will. Where are they?".

"They will come here tomorrow to exact their toll. There is no need to go after them."

"_Just in time,"_ Leiko mused.

"You are welcome to stay in my humble home," the man offered.

A woman approached his side and whispered in a furious tone. "Father, you would let the Blinking Blade sleep amongst your family. Her?" She seemed to be speaking what the entire village was thinking.

"Yes, daughter. I would," her father confirmed his decision. "She has stated her desire to help. I offer this as thanks."

"I do not want to upset anyone anymore than I have," Leiko said, setting her traveler's bag into the dirt. "I will wait right here for them."

"Stubborn youth…" the elderly man muttered and rolled his wheelchair forward. It creaked on its way towards the solemn woman. He examined her stained clothes and shook his head. Grabbing her bag, he set it in his lap and wheeled himself around.

"Come now. I'll show you where we sleep," the man said. Leiko took initiative and pushed his wheelchair for him.

"Thank you for your kindness, good man. I don't deserve it."

"And thank you in return. May I at least call you Leiko-sama?"

"I don't deserve that either. If you must honor me, call me Leiko-san."

"Well, Leiko-san, it's not up to me to decide what you deserve and don't deserve. The Shining Light wants Her children to do good and be good. I just follow Her rules like any good son would."

"I thank you all the same. Might I have a name to call you?"

"Akio," said Akio. "My blessed daughter back there is Akemi-san. Forgive her, and Satou-san, as well. They meant no offense."

Leiko laughed without humor. "I am accustomed to it, Akio-sama. Not every village was as kind to me as yours."

"It smells like it," he joked. "I'm sorry but what have they thrown at you?".

"The nicest was that _baijiu_. It's been awhile since I had an Omnic washer go at these."

"I'm sure my daughter won't mind you borrowing her clothing. She has more than you think the daughter of a small village elder would have."

"That I must decline, Akio-sama. I'll settle for something to wash what I have with though."

"You'll have what you need soon. My home is just over there," Akio pointed.

His home was the largest structure in this village but that wasn't saying much. It was made up of decaying wood like countless other homes Leiko had seen. This one, however, had a freshly woven red and yellow flag flying in front of it. It had a white wall of text that read… well, Leiko couldn't read its language.

"Akio-sama, what does your flag say?"

"Ah, Akemi-san made it for me… it just mentions the exploits of my younger days. She thought it would be inspiring for others to see and she wasn't wrong. People enjoy reading it on occasion." He paused. "Wait, the Blinking Blade of Heaven can't read?".

"Just Leiko, please, Akio-sama. And I can, but not your Chinese. I was raised only with the Imperial language."

"Oh, of course. My apologies."

"None required," she replied as they made their way up the wooden wheelchair ramp and into his home. The hooded figure didn't follow them in. _"At least you have some manners, spirit,"_ Leiko mused. She had decided it was a spirit. Maybe a _Shinigami_ coming to finally claim her.

"I was once a freedom fighter, decades ago, of course. I met my wife, Akemi's mother, Hinata. She was so good to me even after my legs were broken."

"I'm sorry, Akio-sama," she replied, removing her soft metal boots and her rice hat. She waited next to her footwear in the doorframe.

Akio wheeled himself across his matted floors and gestured for her to follow. "Died in childbirth. Been commonplace for long time, you know. Product of this world we live in."

Leiko's sat by her host in silence as he fiddled with his ancient-looking radio and speaker system until it played a soft melody on a Japanese koto. She knew enough about the world's history.

It was 1945. The Second World War had been a disgustingly tumultuous one that ended in the Axis Powers' favor. The U.K. collapsed without aid after Russia quietly withdrew from the battle and grossly improved weapons capabilities allowed Japan to effortlessly decimate the United States mainland minimizing casualties on the Axis. When Britain surrendered, the world followed suit. It was a glorious day in Japanese history and marked the start of the worst occupation for many others.

Eventually, the Axis themselves went through a power struggle; their ideals unable to exist with the other. Japan, Germany, and Italy went to war, crippling the Western world even more in the process. Kidnapping key scientists and forcing them to make impressive mechanical soldiers called "Omnics" to bolster their ranks, Japan dominated the opposition. Italy eventually fell into a state of constant riots and Germany just simply couldn't keep up with machine men. Once tired of its bloody conquest, Japan pulled back to rule what it realistically could, extending their reach far across Asia and allowed the rest of the world to try and repair their societies. Some never recovered.

Japan continued to flourish, becoming the greatest industrialized country on Earth and taking on the guise of the noblest of people while subjecting those still unfortunate enough to be in their grasp to horrendous torment, especially China and Korea. Up until 2076, there was little hope to be had for a better future. Then Leiko had experienced her death thrice and began to see the world differently than she had.

Now it was 2079, and Leiko Okazaki was doing all she could to right every wrong her people had committed. She knew death would take her before that day came, but if she could take all the hate, and cruelty, and death she herself added and replace it with love, and kindness, and hope, maybe there could be a chance for the world to come together. It was something she prayed for daily.

"Leiko-san? You look so distant," Akio said. He had made her tea while she was in her own thoughts.

"Just thoughtful. Thinking about your bandit issue."

"I imagine you've seen many like it."

"Not as much closer to Japan. The Omnic Sentinels have been repurposed. They protect instead of abuse now, Akio-sama."

Her host raised bushy white eyebrows. "A blessing. We could use some of those all the way out here."

"Exactly," she said as she dug into bag. From within, she pulled an apple sized black sphere.

"I remember them being bigger…" he replied, confused.

"They are. This is just a receiver for one to come. I wanted to show it to you first before signaling for one."

"Wouldn't have gone over well with anyone here, not one bit," Akio said, studying the signaling ball. "Have you been delivering these things to the villages you stop at?"

"The ones that accept them, I do. A lot more turn me away." Setting the signal-ball down, she reached into her bag and pulled a flat rectangular device. She pressed a solid red button on it, and it expanded into a hand-sized cube. "They like these things much more. This is like your radio, Akio-sama. It plays music just like it and more."

"Huh," Akio said as she set it in his hands. He held to his ear and shook it gently. He turned his speaker system off and ran his fingers along the cube in search of a button until it turned on and a lively Chinese melody filled the room. Leiko could see his already bright eyes light up even more as he clapped his hands to the tune. She smiled.

"Ha!" he exclaimed. "That's a pipa flute! A-And that's a big drum!" His head swayed along with the music. "I haven't heard those since I was freedom fightin'. What are these doing on the Japanese airwaves?"

"His Majesty the Emperor Zhou Guan Yu was born in China. He grew up hearing these songs and decided others might like to as well. Those within his rebellion that played for themselves play for all of Asia now. Or soon enough, anyway. It has a news channel as well to inform you of upcoming weather."

"This must be that Japanese excellence I kept hearing about," Akio said, half-jokingly.

Reaching into her bag she pulled free a thin but sturdy piece of round-edged glass. "I use this to contact others that have one similar to it, like the factories responsible for the production of Omnics."

When Akio just stared at her with confusion on his face, Leiko pressed her thumb to the glass and it flashed with a sky-blue light. Balancing it on her knee, a beam shot up to the ceiling and widened to the size of a large television. It was just a map, but to Akio, apparently, it was something much more.

"Technology has truly changed since my day, I guess…" he stated, gazing in wonder at the holographic map.

"It has," Leiko replied. "And the world with it. You said the bandits would be coming tomorrow. If I could know where they reside, I could strike before they ever came."

"Fighting them on their own grounds? Bold of you, and they would never expect it, but it would be a danger on your part."

"I'm in no danger from random thugs, Akio-sama."

"I'd be inclined to agree, but these ones come especially well-armed, Leiko-san. Pulse rifles. They looked military grade to me."

"How many bandits are there?"

"Hmm," Akio counted from memory. "10 in total, I believe. I saw more women than men in the group. They were bald. Looked military grade too."

"_Hmm…" _Something bothered Leiko. "These bandits. Could you see any markings on their bodies? A branding?" she asked.

"Oh, hmm… maybe? A few did have some paler patches on their upper arms, I think. Were those brands?" Akio thought for a moment. "Oh. You know them, don't you, Leiko-san?"

"Yes," she replied, eye narrowing in annoyance. "Stormborn."

The Stormborn were the finest of Japanese military. Handpicked solely by the reigning ruler at the time, they were the guardians of the blessed family and their enforcers. In another life, Leiko wanted to join them. Then that life ended when the Slipstream Incident occurred, and she returned from that curious realm for her dear tyrant friend Empress Kiku to proclaim her "The Blinking Blade of Heaven" after witnessing her gift. When the time came for Kiku's rule to end by Leiko's hand and Mei's freedom fighting cousin took the Chrysanthemum Throne, many Stormborn refused to serve a native Chinaman and fled knowing they couldn't best Leiko in combat.

She knew they would be a problem and told her Emperor as much. While serving her sentence of exile, her Emperor commanded her to bring the traitors to justice. _"Show the world Japan has changed by ridding us of our last vestige of the oppressive regime, Leiko. We mean to be the defenders of those that need it most."_

"_A worthy cause to stand behind," _she believed. She hoped to give her life fixing the lives of others.

"They are traitors of our Heaven's chosen. I'll end their harassment, Aiko-sama. Do you know where they hide themselves?" giving her full attention to her map.

"Unfortunately, I only have the general area, Leiko-san. Within the dense Hēisèkāihuāsēnlín. The Black Blossom Forest."

Leiko had heard of the Black Blossom Forest before. The fool planters had meant for the genetically enhanced cherry blossom trees to be a symbol of Japanese excellence amongst Chinese mediocrity. The forest grew taller than expected and drained its area of all the water in the ground. Without a steady supply, the cherry blossoms darkened until they were midnight black. The Japanese don't like talking about it.

Not a place anyone would want to be caught for its said angry spirits live within. Once upon a time, Leiko had no fear as the weapon of Heaven's chosen. Now she understood she was only a mortal soul and it showed in her silence.

Sensing her hesitation, Akio said, "That's why I think it'll be better to deal with them here. No chance of being claimed by spirits here in my village." Akio sounded proud of that fact.

"I couldn't do that to your people," Leiko reminded him as much as herself. "These are former royal guards well-versed with their weapons and tactics. If I go to them, the only ones at risk are them-"

"And yourself."

"And I," she finished.

Akio studied her and then the sunlight beaming through the cracks of his failing roof. "If you insist, Leiko-san. You must strike while Amaterasu-ōmikami blesses us with sunlight."

Scanning her map, she found the single blackened cherry blossom signaling the Hēisèkāihuāsēnlín. "I will return when I've handled them," Leiko replied, closing her map and rising from the creaking floor.

"Oh, damn," Akio spoke. He gestured to her unclean clothing. "The only thing you've asked of me was something to clean your clothes and I'm rushing you on your way."

Leiko smiled at her kind host and waved his apology away. "I should wait, Akio-sama. I think I'll be in much more dire need of one after tonight anyway."

"Ah, true enough." He took hold of her hands and bowed his head in prayer. "Return in one piece, Leiko and you will have that bath." He coughed. "You could use one."

Leiko guarded her small frown when he called out, "The world needs more heroes like you, Leiko-san!". It reminded her of… no, Leiko wouldn't think of her name. She didn't deserve to.

As she walked out of Akio's home to the tune of his people's instrumentals, she caught the hooded figure watching her. Her chestpiece felt heavy again. Leiko's frown deepened as she was reminded of all her crimes in this hooded figure's shadowed face. She steeled herself and blinked away from Akio's porch, from this humble village and into the direction of the Black Blossom Forest.

And yet, the hooded one was never far behind, just watching her blink in between the thick swathe of trees.

"_I am sorry, Akio-sama, but my time must be near. Please, Shinigami. Let me finish this last objective," _Leiko lamented for having wasted her life.

* * *

The Shining Light could barely pierce the black blossoms that nearly kissed the sky. From their obstruction, the blossom-littered ground was a deep black, the dying branches around her were black. Leiko's chronal accelerator doubled as the only reliable light source, tinting the world in a soft yellow. As she stood in the haunted place, the breezy winds shook down volleys of black blossoms like it was raining the accursed stuff.

"_If I told Emperor Guan Yu that this place was unholy for blocking Amaterasu-ōmikami's light, he would have it cleared away immediately." _She glanced to her right. The hooded figure stared at her as though to say, _"When will you have time for that? Can I come with?"_

"I guess in the next life…" she muttered. Leiko scanned the area with her one good eye, searching for another light source. She couldn't see too far but the air had a burned scent to it. Pushing ahead, it only got stronger.

The hooded figure was always a few paces behind. It was now she realized that its barely exposed legs had strange blue-tinted gold footwear for shoes. And its legs weren't moving to follow her. She focused on the path forward to combat her growing unease. It barely helped.

"_I wonder how the afterlife is. Are the Buddhists correct with their belief of the Sanzu River? Or maybe the Shintos with their "other world" theory. Will I see you there, Kiku?" _Leiko had almost hoped for it.

While she walked, she became acutely aware of the branches surrounding her after she stepped on one. Upon examining them further, she saw they were in a patterned formation.

"_You set these all wrong,"_ Leiko reviewed disapprovingly. _"Either they're getting sloppier after all this time or Tanaka Kenta's still alive." _She couldn't decide what would be more disappointing. _"At least I know I'm getting closer. Your Emperor thanks you for that."_

She turned her eye upward, letting the breeze slap against her. Leiko drowned the noise it made against her clothes out, scanning the purplish sky for anything useful. Through the black cherry trees, she could make out smoke. Turning her head to her right, she could see an orange flicker in the distance. Then a flash of blue as a _BANG!_ rose into the air.

Leiko's fists clenched. _"Pulsefire," _she glared in its direction. "Too long," Leiko spat the words. She forged on ahead, ready for whatever came. Another flash of blue and she began blinking ahead, past all the poorly placed traps lining the entrance to their hideaway. The Stormborn laughed, oblivious to the woman who despised them, like they had nothing to fear.

Leiko Okazaki would prove them wrong. Once the camp's fire was in plain view, she slowed to a halt to take it all in.

Seven women and three men, all wearing the faded fiery red tunics that marked their servitude to the Blazing Sun regime. Leiko could just barely make out the white storm cloud emblems and matching brands on their arms. The fire they started illuminated their caravan of ill-gotten items and ten horses. A large stake was driven into the ground. Attached to it by chain were four women and two men dressed in bruises and tattered clothing. Leiko's anger was rising quick.

Five walked around their campsite, talking about the beginnings of a plan to return to Tokyo and kill Emperor Guan Yu in a kamikaze-esque attack. Three sat closer to the fire, eating fresh vegetables. A Stormborn man Leiko identified as Kenta Tanaka stood next a female Stormborn observing a dead-eyed man roped to a tree. He had the remains of some fruit on his battered face. She congratulated Kenta for being a good shot.

"_Tanaka and… hmm, Suzuki Choyo. Damn every one of you," _Leiko cursed them silently. She wove her way through the thick brush blocking her path as quietly as she could. From the smell of things, they weren't operating at 100%. She could better see them now. Suzuki had a midnight black sheathe on her hip and a service katana in its scabbard. In fact, all the Stormborn had carried one. They all kept their scalps bare. Her muscled arms were crossed in silent contemplation. She observed the battered man with a smile.

She clicked her tongue and said, "Sorry, Kenta. They had it right in the old days." Suzuki patted her katana. "This is aesthetic." She patted his rifle. "This is not."

"Oh, whatever. I'd like to see you take a trained rifleman on with your little blade there," Tanaka laughed at her.

"You know damn well you've seen me do just that."

"Those freedom fighters weren't shit, Choyo. If that _baita_ Okazaki hadn't have turned traitor, they never would've put that mongrel on the throne."

"Yeah," Suzuki conceded. "I hope we run into her out here. I hated it when she'd leave but damn did, I just love watching her go."

Kenta barked with laughter. "We already share much, Choyo. I ain't sharing her."

"Oh, get the hell out of here! She'd get her pretty hands around your neck and snap it like a twig. But me? I'd know she'd be coming. I can smell her right now even." Choyo made a sound that had Leiko quietly dry heave. "She's delicious. Ah, damn it, I need to use one of the natives. I'll be back," she said, while drawing her blade and approaching the dead-eyed man they used for target practice. He closed his eyes and made no sounds as she gently brushed his face with her sword.

Leiko couldn't think straight. Her mind went blank as she blinked forward and ripped Choyo's blade out of her hands and pushed it into her. The fear in her eyes made Leiko smile. But then she saw her reflection in them and dropped it, Choyo, and her sword. Her hands were red once more. They shook.

"_I didn't miss this, I didn't miss this, I didn't miss this," _Leiko chanted in her head. She saw the hooded figure in the corner of her eye. _"Yes, you did." _it seemed to say.

The world was silent save for Choyo's strangled cries.

Kenta roared at her, swearing until he was red in the face. She turned just in time for him to smack her in the mouth with his rifle. Her mouth was bleeding now, but she couldn't help but feel a thrill. _"I did," _she admitted.

"IT'S OKAZAKI!" Kenta shouted, alarming the others. She blinked as he took aim and fired at her. Her fist found his throat and snatched his rifle away, cracking him across the face with it. She smiled, her grip tight on the weapon.

Angry shouts rose up from the camp. She looked to see more Stormborn rushing her with their rifles and katanas.

"_Damn me," _Leiko thought. She took aim with the pulse rifle and fired it, nailing Ito Haruna in the chest and collapsing her. _"Reckless, reckless, reckless. Now these innocent people are at risk. None of them die, Leiko," _she swore to herself.

"Leiko, you _baita! _You should've kept away from us. Our Empress gets to watch from Heaven what we'll do to you!" a woman shrieked at her from behind cover.

"Which one are you again?" Leiko asked.

"Kato Hibiki! I'm the one who's gonna wear your skull on my hip and use your skin as a cloak!"

"Ah," the Blinking Blade replied. "I thought you sounded familiar." Leiko blinked across the camp, firing another volley from behind her attackers. One pulse round was lucky enough to find a home in Kato Hibiki's leg. Her cry was louder than the rifles. Leiko set herself down behind a cache of vegetables.

"Move her, now!" a woman commanded. "Okazaki! Why'd you have to come looking for us?"

"How do you do it?" Leiko asked, her breathing steady. "How do you look yourself in the mirror and think "I am right, I am just for what I'm doing"?". She spat the blood from her mouth out. "How do you do it?" she whispered.

"You killed for Kiku just like us, Leiko! How come you didn't get your damn head cut off?"

Leiko listened as footsteps were closing in on her right. "I was still useful to the throne, I suppose. It's a nice feeling, if you were wondering."

"Kiku loved you like a sister," a man shouted. "And you betrayed her! Was it a nice feeling watching the Shining Light fade from her eyes, you coward?! Did it give you peace?"

Leiko growled and blinked towards the voices. As she left her cover, the two that were trying to flank her shot at her with fury in their eyes. The rounds whizzed past her as she blinked under them. She chose not to fire in their direction, taking caution of the shackled villagers near them. Approaching the Stormborn's cover, she leapt over their heads and fired at them as she fled. That was three more that wouldn't be getting up. Her rifle's heads-up display flashed red, signaling it was empty and she tossed it aside.

One tackled her and tried to club her to death. "Hold still and let me finish what our Empress started!" the woman shrieked, trying to knock Leiko's remaining eye out. Leiko blinked to her right and drew her blade from its scabbard and slashed a wide arc across her stomach. Her opponent fell face first, fading fast.

"You aren't even worth the energy it takes to kill you!" Leiko let her rage came forth. "You're all cowards and you'll all die cowards' deaths!".

The last three Stormborn, emboldened by her words, drew their katanas and rushed Leiko. "Come on!"

She met them in the center, her carbon fiber matching theirs. Try as they did, whenever they swung at her, Leiko was no longer were they wanted her to be. Using her superior speed, she shouldered one into her enemy's arc and watched her fall with a stoic face.

She kicked one in the chest and watched them stumble backwards. The larger of the two knocked the blade from Leiko's hands and grabbed her by the neck and squeezing as hard as he could, smiling at her discomfort. Leiko slammed her elbows against the crook of his arms and smashed her head against his pudgy nose. Grabbing a katana, she blinked past the man, slicing as she did. He fell to his knees before falling forward.

The one that she kicked aimed a discarded rifle at her and fired… but it harmlessly clicked instead. Leiko studied the acceptance in her foe's eyes before cutting her down.

"O-Okazaki! You treacherous…" Kanta's voice trailed off from behind her.

Leiko shrugged. "Treacherous traitor?" she replied with a hint of smugness.

"You… you've ruined everything. Japan won't survive the shitstorm you've caused." A katana left its scabbard.

"Does it deserve to?" She turned to face him. "The atrocities our people committed are endless, Kanta! We're the greatest nation on Earth, but what does that mean when every other nation is war-torn? When newborns can't experience the joys of life?" Leiko gestured to those wearing shackles. "When we chain and assault each other? We had a duty to the world to save it and for too long we have floundered! No more!" Leiko cried. Her grip was tight on her bleeding blade. "For once in its history, Japan will finally be the hero it claims to be, and I'm glad I can make sure you won't be around to see it."

Kanta spat blood from his swollen mouth and drew his own katana. "You worthless whore! You've ruined everything!"

Kato Hibiki rose on Leiko's left and desperately swung her katana at the Blinking Blade. With a twirl and a stab from Leiko, Kato Hibiki made no further attempts.

"There's no use for people like you and me. This death is kinder than we deserve…"

"Where was all this compassion when you killed rebel after rebel? Where was it on that stage taking a blade to that woman's throat? Where was it when you took Kiku from us!?" Kanta bit back. "You're as black-hearted as the rest of us. All this love you have won't mean a damn thing when you're being flayed in Yomi. This world you have such compassion for won't mean a damn thing when its ashes in the wind!" Kanta's voice echoed into the forest.

"_Why do I even bother?" _"May we both be lucky to burn with it," Leiko replied. She kept herself light on her feet. "Come on then! Let's see your precious Empress!" she spat.

Kanta gave a furious war-cry and rushed Leiko. His arc cut the air and into her blade, chipping with his might. He batted at her with it and stabbed at her chronal accelerator, which she wouldn't allow. Her cuts were quicker than his and better placed. As they fought, his steps became heavier. He would swing but Leiko had already moved. She would strike him with her fists, and he stumbled every time. Every swing he made cut air. Every swing she made cut him.

Her foe was on his knees before her in no time. His eyes meet couldn't hers. His katana fell from his hand.

"You… will never… find the peace you want," Kanta's voice was a whisper.

"I don't deserve it anyway," Leiko replied. She rose her katana and swung it against her foe as he opened his mouth to speak more.

And the breakaway rogues were no more.

Leiko would have enjoyed her victory but the wails of the imprisoned men and women grew. She blinked over and wasted no time freeing the ones who were chained to a stake and the one who was silently tied to a tree. She decided taking them back to Akio's village would be best. Their shared nightmare was almost over. As they walked through the Black Blossom Forest, their cries were the only thing that could be heard in the moonlit night.

"_I am sorry,"_ was all she could think. The hooded figure judged her in silence, but what its verdict was, Leiko didn't want to know.

* * *

The Shining Light had returned to rule the sky when Leiko led the people she freed to Akio's village. The village's bustle halted when they saw Leiko covered in blood with a group of battered men and women trailing her. No one spoke, barely anyone breathed until two men within the crowd ushered the Stormborn's victims away from Leiko, sitting them down and having an older woman clean their wounds.

Leiko stood still when she saw most of the eyes were fixated on the state of her clothes. Akio was pushed forward by his daughter, Akemi. He smiled when he saw her and took Leiko's bloody hands in, bowing his head.

"Oh, Leiko-san," he said in wonderment. His mind must have been running faster than she could. He looked over at the group she brought back and said, "You saved them."

Leiko looked over at them only to see the hopeful looks on their faces. They were free. Was that Satou being friendly? She didn't know he had it in him. _"Just not for you, fool."_

Leiko returned a small smile. "Of course, Akio-sama. Are any of them from here?"

"No, but it's no matter to us. We'll take care of them like they were!" Akio's smile was infectious.

"Father, that's great, but what about _her_?" Akemi spoke up, gesturing to Leiko. "That's a lot of…" She looked sick. "…none of that is yours, right?" she asked, surprising Leiko with the question.

"No," she settled on saying.

"Then the Stormborn…" Akemi prompted.

"Are no more. Your troubles with them ended last night."

Akemi clasped her hands together and bowed her head to the Shining Light. Akio gave a whooping laugh. "I know I shouldn't be happy about how they met their ends but…" Akio glanced at the ones receiving medical attention.

"Oh, I'll be happy for the both of us, Akio-sama. Don't you worry about that."

"Oof, Leiko-san," Akio coughed. "You just had to be right, didn't you? Ugh… let's uh, get you that bath now."

Akio pointed her to the far end of a flowing river where she could wash off in peace. Leiko was dismayed to find after all her traveling, her clothes of Imperial material were finally being to tear. _"Maybe Akemi would be willing to part with something?"_ Leiko sighed, sinking into the cold, cold water. She gently rubbed the blood from her exploit off her body and her clothing. She dunked her head below the water and let her hair get a much-needed wash. Applying some homemade soap, Leiko had a nice reward for her effort.

If only the Shinigami would leave her be…

* * *

It was time to continue her path. Leiko had enjoyed the villagers' hospitality for another night before deciding so. Akemi had been kind enough to give her a pair of simple brown breeches, steeled toed boots, and a billowy white tunic. Akio reaffirmed as many times as he could in one breath that she was welcome to return whenever she wanted. Thankful, she held his hands and prayed with him for a safe journey and another meeting. With her damaged clothes in her bag, her bag on tight, and her chronal accelerator weighing heavier than it did last night (a cause for concern, but what could she do?), Leiko began her new day.

Some villagers waved her goodbye to her surprise. The ones she saved cried as she left, a hopeful shine returning to their eyes. With a wave and blink, she left in time before anyone could see the tears form in her own eye. She was thankful for the incoming rain.

Leiko could _feel_ something was wrong with this moment. Her chronal accelerator was a thing of ingenuity, something that showed the potential of that Japanese excellence. It's never weighed like this before. And there was no visible cause she could see besides… maybe the Shinigami?

"Damn you," she whispered to the divine being as it edged closer to her left. "Leave me alone," she was near begging. "I… can't go with you just yet." After besting the Stormborn, Leiko was reminded of how bad the world she'd one day leave was. "I'm not asking to live a long life. Just time to… undo what I've done? Can't you take me while I'm in a battle or…" _"You sound pathetic, Leiko," _she thought to herself and imagined the Shinigami said the same.

"Oh, go away!" Leiko was losing her mind next to the silent watcher and blinked away. Yet, as many times as she did, there it was, never far away from her. _"You can't run away from death, fool. It'll never leave you alone."_

She came to a halt and stared the Shinigami in the shadowed face. It seemed to invite her forward, into its impenetrable void. Leiko obliged it and reached for its hood to look her death in its eyes.

A gloved hand grabbed at hers, and passed through it, intangible. A voice reverbed through the air, like it was screaming through water._ "You can see me," _the voice whispered. She sounded confused, but it was no matter to Leiko.

Leiko's heart was racing now. She knew this specter. Her voice's pointed remarks rushed back to the forefront of Leiko's mind. The way she pressed Leiko to take her life in that lighthearted manner in front of millions of watchers. She stepped away from it and stumbled over herself, falling into the mudded road.

Lena Oxton asked her a question, but she couldn't hear it. Leiko blanched as the woman she executed lowered her hood. Her brown hair was much different than Leiko remembered it to be, windblown in a strange manner. But it was undoubtedly her.

"_Lena Oxton," _her jaw was tight. Leiko couldn't hear the rain, couldn't feel the cold mud beneath her. She could only stare. The two held each other's gaze, the rain beating them down now. _"The heavens weep on this day. But why? A sinner finally gets what she deserves…"_ Leiko fell to her knees and bowed before the visage, waiting for her end.

"What are you doing?" the visage asked. Leiko braved her fear and looked into its eyes. The specter of Lena Oxton looked confused and uncomfortable at the prostrating Leiko.

"This doesn't make any sense," Lena Oxton's ghost continued. "I just get to this Earth and you're about to grab my face, then you bow before me? You shouldn't have seen me coming." Lena knelt in the mud by the bewildered Leiko. She could see a pulsating blue light from within her cloak. "How did you see me coming?"

"I-I…" Leiko thoughts moved faster than her mouth. One thought that prevailed from the internal flurry was that this was Lena Oxton speaking as though they never met. That Leiko never killed her. "I killed you."

The shock on the ghost's face was visceral. "That's impossible. My scanner says this universe has never had a breach before. Which means you never left your Earth before, which means you're not the killer I'm looking for, which means… hmm," Lena Oxton observed Leiko's face. Her eye. She could see the internal guilt within. "Which means you mean you killed _your _Lena Oxton." Lena Oxton's ghost stood up straight. "Might make working together a bit awkward…"

"I'm not a ghost, if that's what you're thinking. I'm not from this Earth, I'm from a different one, so close, yet so far away." Lena Oxton offered a hand to Leiko. Leiko stared at it forever before taking it into her own. The gloved hand pulled her up and steadied her unbalance. The women locked eyes.

"I don't understand," was all Leiko could say.

"Hmm, right. Okay. Let's… try this," Lena Oxton replied, extending her arm out from beneath her cloak. On her wrist was a golden miniature chronal accelerator with a blue hologram projected from it matching the one on her chest. Lena waved her hand over it and a massive white globe encased her and Leiko. Two blinking blue dots stood side-by-side. "See? This is you and me." Leiko waited for more information. When none came, she glanced to her side and saw Lena staring at her, waiting for a response.

"This doesn't… I'm still confused," Leiko replied. Lena sighed and closed her projector map.

"Um," Lena snapped her fingers in concentration. "Slipstream," she settled on saying. "Did you have the Slipstream Incident too?"

No one knew that except for Kiku and a select few others that retrieved Leiko from that blue realm she was stuck in for years. Kiku had them quietly executed, and then she herself died, so no one knew but Leiko. _"She knows too, Leiko"_, she reminded herself.

"Yes," Leiko began warily. "I was the pilot for the Slipstream. An aeroplane designed-"

"To cut the distance from one point to the next by teleporting. Except it did more than teleport you, didn't it? The Slipstream crew invited a time machine."

Leiko could only nod.

"You ended up somewhere fantastic, but you couldn't enjoy it because the experience was so… surreal. You were gone for months until a genetically enhanced gorilla named Winston brought you back."

Leiko blinked her eye. "What?"

"Did I lose you?"

"I was brought back by a team of highly intelligent scientists from Japan. And it took them two years of their time to do so, but for it me, it felt as though decades had passed."

"You don't have a Winston here?" Lena looked upwards towards the still visible Tsukiyomi, curious. "The others do on their worlds, that's… sorry, did you say you were out of time for two years?".

"I... suppose I did. Wait, others?"

"That may explain why you could see me before I was truly on your Earth. All that exposure to the chronosphere, something had to have stuck with you," Lena studied Leiko, taking in all the features she had. "Yes. I think you'll do nicely."

"Nicely for what? What do you mean "the others"?". None of this had made sense. The woman wasn't explaining herself very well.

"Ah, the brass tacks of it all. We're being hunted, Tracer," Lena replied. Tracer. Her old callsign…

"Hunted? By what?" Leiko replied, her head swimming with a wealth of questions.

"Well, there's the problem. I don't know," Lena admitted. "But I've seen the bodies for myself. And I've felt a shift in my own abilities. I could Blink farther and for longer. I felt stronger. I've seen images in my head about experiences yet to come. You have too, haven't you?"

Leiko had and told her as much. Lena continued, "By some strange, mind-bending happenstance you and I, and a countless amount of others are all connected by some force, and by these," she said, exposing her golden chronal accelerator to the world. The rain slid down its beautiful design happily.

Leiko placed a hand on her own life-altering device. "And something is killing us? Why?" she asked.

"Not something, someone. I think its someone wearing one of these like us, a Tracer. You can't step outside of time-space and reenter without it. The why though, I haven't ascertained. But it doesn't matter to me. We need to stop them."

Leiko closed her eye and reflected on everything in her life that led to this moment. She gave a joyless laugh to the world. _"I am cursed,"_ she thought as she stared into the eyes of Lena Oxton. _"I must be cursed."_

"What would you have me do then? I have something of great import going on in "my Earth". Leaving it is a setback."

"Of course, we all have lives to get to. But we don't know when or where this rogue will strike. Even if we're lucky to never meet them, there's no telling what could happen if too many of us die. I have a really interesting theory on that and how severe the consequences are for the state of the multiverse, but its better discussed in a room with heated seats and heated floors."

Leiko blinked her eye. "Not here, is what I meant," Lena said more pointedly.

"_Do you cry because I must leave?" _she asked the Heavens. They gave no answer. _"This is a severe matter. I can't ignore this problem any more the one here. I feel… torn."_

"Listen, I'm asking a lot more than anyone ever has of you. To leave the only world you've known for another with a stranger that resembles someone you've killed," Lena said while shrugging. "It's a lot, I get that. And… I get that whatever you have going on here is majorly important, but this is the multiverse. It's as real as you, and me, and this rain is. Someone is out there killing us for whatever reason, and it could put _everything_ in danger. The fabric of reality, time itself could… it's not good."

"We have been gifted by our universes with this amazing power. Maybe just for the moment some bastard felt particularly devious and threatened its own existence. We're needed. The multiverse needs us, an uncountable amount of people needs us, and we need each other," Lena extended a hand towards Leiko. "Will you please come with me?"

Of course, she would. Leiko placed her hand in Lena's. "How could I not?" she replied.

"You'd be surprised by the amount of no's I've gotten. I tell them, "the state of the multiverse!". But," she sighed. "It doesn't matter right now. We have a decent enough team back at my Earth waiting on us. If we can coordinate, I'm certain of our success."

"_And if we can't?"_ she wanted to ask. No, she would leave strong of heart. They will win.

"Might I have your name?" the stranger asked Leiko as her golden wristwatch sparked to life and swirled with a brilliant blue light.

"Leiko Okazaki," the Blinking Blade replied. Her grip on her companion tightened. Her chronal accelerator weighed much more than it should've. Why was it sparking?

"Leiko Okazaki, its good to meet you. I'm… well, you already know," the woman offered a small smile. "And, ah… sorry in advance about the others. They'll take getting adjusted to."

"Why is that?" Leiko was all she could ask before the familiar weightlessness took them both and never left. The world was consumed by a deep cerulean blue. The rain faded and so did the pounding noise. A swirl of violet lights spun into Leiko's vision and away at blinding speeds. The expanse they fell through was boundless, never-ending…

"_Beautiful…" _Leiko thought while the waves in her head became a tsunami.

She felt lightheaded.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Crime Across The Multiverse**

#E39

Tomorrow was the big day. Lena Oxton's crew had put her plan into motion. All that was needed was her, of course.

They quieted themselves as she took to their makeshift stage. "Friends, misfits!" the pink-haired punk began. She smiled as they shared a laugh. "Lend me your ears for a moment," she gently coaxed. "When we complete our objective in St. Petersburg, we'll be much closer to holding the criminals of the world accountable. You could not believe how much I've been looking forward to this chat with Volskaya." Her captive audience of 50 booed at the mention of Katya Volysaka. "Oh, yeah. My sentiments exactly. I hate her just as much you all do. Well, a lot more than you," she fell silent, placing a hand over her chronal accelerator. Her crew matched her somber tone, some making the sign of the cross in honor of her closest friend and the fallen of Overwatch.

"_She's gonna pay for what happened to you guys. They all will." _Tracer gave a sigh and clasped her hands together. "Remember. Because of how we've handled our Vishkar objective, public support is slowly, but surely beginning to lean on our side!" They cheered at this. _"Good people, all of you."_ "The media wants to purport that we're this nasty, clandestine shadow organization that wants to hide like cowards and rule the world through fear and underhanded tactics."

"Sounds like they confused us for their masters!" Maurice Holloway shouted from the audience. Tracer and the gang laughed.

"Have they freakin' seen _me?_" Lena asked, rubbing her hot pink hair and gesturing to her sky-blue chronal accelerator with its yellow highlights and skull spray."Have they seen _any of you? _Who here is trying to rule the world through fear and underhanded tactics?"

"Not a single goddamn one of us!" a woman she recognized as Vanya Gordon cried over the shouts of the others. Many agreed.

"Its really amazing they still try to lie on us about our exploits when we livestream the damned things ourselves, but let them try, I say! Let everyone see how desperate they are. Let 'em see how easily the real shadowy snakes will lie to them."

As her crew rallied around her words, Lena Oxton felt assured everything would work out in the end.

"It's thanks to you all, the world's gonna learn the truth about Winston's death tomorrow. And when they do, they're gonna start asking a helluva lot more questions about why Overwatch died."

And with those words, her crew dispersed throughout the massive ancient warehouse they had been allowed to use by its sympathetic owner. Several large high-class space heaters kept them warm and the warehouse aglow in an orange tint.

Her crew waved at her in passing, some stopping her to involve her in their praying, which Lena didn't mind. She smiled at their insistence she was the hero the world really needed. Gracefully, she excused herself and went about her way. A blonde woman Lena knew as Anya Turgenev gave her a certain kind of smile that had a certain kind of effect on her. Yet, Tracer gave a polite smile and a tip of an imaginary fedora and continued to the overseer room alone, thinking of her beloved.

"_Ah, Ems… be nice if you were with me now but… way too dangerous of a time."_

When Overwatch disassembled after Commander Gabriel Reyes was assassinated by his second-in-command, Ana Amari and amid never-ending power abuse scandals brought up during the Omnic War, the U.N. took a stance: all Overwatch agents were to be captured and imprisoned for the supposed cancerous corruption that ran rampant throughout the organization. Unfortunately, "captured and imprisoned" really meant "executed".

Many lost their lives, either by the world governments, lynch mobs, or by their own hand. Many more decided a certain other organization had the right mindset for the future of the world. It was a soul-crushing blow to Tracer, knowing that the heroic likes of Jack Morrison, Mako Rutledge, and many others had all met their untimely ends by a powerful force they had acted in the name of. It sickened her.

Feeling the maddening despair, she fled with Emily, Winston, and a handful of other former agents, moving from abandoned border town to sprawling cities, always hunted. Always afraid. As time passed, their ranks dwindled down to just Lena, Emily, and Winston. Having numbed herself to the suffering, Lena was content having those most important to her within arms-reach, but not Winston. _"Blessed genius, you. Where would I be if not for you? Still a ghost."_

Winston believed there was much more to the scandalous controversy that plagued and killed Overwatch and put targets on their backs. Too much had gone wrong too fast to believe anything else other than foul play was at work. Tracer knew he was right and told him as much. Every night since his death she wished she never affirmed anything.

Scaling the dark steel stairs, Lena let her hands brush against the safety railing. She entered her temporary office and crossed the chronal accelerator lit room to the faux mahogany desk. On the desk was a cylindrical lantern. Sensing her presence, it lit itself and filled the room with a warm orange glow. As usual, her attention was captured by the three metallic post-it boards aglow with news headlines and videos related to her crew's escapades.

There was always one that she saw before the others. The one that brought a dark rage boiling within her to surface.

"**PRIMAL FURY MEETS MODERN END, **_**On To The Next Monster!" **_she glared as the accompanying photo of Winston lying in bloodied Moscow snow crowded her vision. As much as she wanted to look away, she forced herself to continue staring at it. Seeing her best friend's final moments forever captured in such a way burned. But she was determined to use the fire for a better cause.

"_I'm sorry this is what it took for me to fight back, Winston. It won't be for nothing though, old friend. I won't let it be for nothing."_

Lena turned the board off and crossed her office to the inviting bed nestled close to the windows watching over the warehouse property. Several armed crew members walked around, alert and attentive. Rows of trucks below surrounded the area. Some had her likeness sprayed onto them. It flattered her to no end, but the real beauty lied in the cloudy black skies above. The glittering white stars she could make out entranced her so. She wished her Blink ability could move her closer to them. Lena imagined floating amongst them, falling through them. A brilliant blue for all to see. A faint smile traced her lips.

She noticed her chronal accelerator weighed on her more than usual. Due to Winston's brilliance, it usually weighed nothing to her, but now it was as if rocks were taped to her body.

"What the hell…?" Lena whispered. She stood from the bed and almost stumbled over. Worried, she undid the straps connecting the life-saving device from her frame and let it drop by her feet. She stretched her arms and knelt beside the chronal accelerator to examine it. Nothing caught her attention about it.

Her eyes narrowed. The blue circular light it emanated shook and faltered then glowed brighter than it ever had before. Tracer leaned away, not letting her eyes from it. She rubbed a hand through her hair nervously. _"Oh, this has gotta be a joke. I don't have a chronal accelerator expert on speed dial!" _It sparked at her._ "Don't explode, don't explode, don't explode." _She was concerned what would happen to the warehouse if it did.

And then came the chill that ran throughout her body.

It felt like eyes were on her. No one else was in the lit room, so there was only one option.

She looked out through the window behind her, scanning the surroundings. The trucks were abandoned, the windows frosted over by the cold night air. She searched elsewhere, looking further out. Her vision eventually settled on a tiny red orb barely concealed by the night.

She hadn't noticed it before. Lena couldn't stop staring once she did. Something about the small light filled her with a quiet panic. She hadn't felt something so… strange since Slipstream.

She had blinked her eyes only once. When they were fully open, the tiny red light was gone. Yet the feeling it brought stayed with her for a while longer.

Lena stayed awake longer than she intended watching for its return.

* * *

Even through the morning fog that settled on her mind, she knew she couldn't admit to any of her team how poorly she slept. The bustle and rushing of her crew stirred her from her grogginess and distracted her from the strangeness of last night.

They all shared an exquisite breakfast made by Molly Kenway and Arthur McGuinness. Tracer took the time to go over the details of the plan as they ate. Some said a prayer for their success and for Lena personally. She simply thanked them for their kindness; her head slightly too heavy for anything else.

As the hovering trucks fluttered through the traffic of St. Petersburg in the direction of Volskaya Industries, Lena's mind drifted to Winston. His eyes glowing with animalistic fury. The high-powered rifle rounds piercing his armor and his body, leaving no trace of their existence. The cheers of the once fearful crowd as he fell, life fading. It fueled her. She knew her friend well enough to know he wouldn't have lost control the way he did.

She would tear their worlds apart.

Once in range, she exited from the passenger side and bid her allies good luck. The driver pushed a floating recorder out of the truck and wished her the same. It hovered to her side and cloaked itself. She gave a wink to the invisible tech and Blinked closer to the safety railing. From across the waters, she could see a beautifully crafted building with golden domes. Hovercars flew behind her. From afar, the human-piloted Svyatogors' mighty steps shook the ground Lena stood on.

She let her fingers drum along the rails while she waited for some privacy. When she noticed a lull in hovercars, she readied herself. With a light slapping of her face and the strapping on of her black skull goggles, Tracer vaulted over the railing and Blinked across the chilling waters below her until she was standing next to the golden domed building.

A plaque on the building caught her attention. She stared at it and nodded her head for a minute before addressing the invisible camera next to her. "I can't read Russian," Lena stated, a light chuckle escaping her. She Blinked away from it and made her way up the stone-cobbled street. A sign bearing the V sigil of Volskaya Industries greeted her from an archway. From behind a floating delivery truck, she could see several cargo bots carrying large crates all about the area.

"Keep up the good work, scrappers," Lena saluted while walking in full view of them. One yellow-blinking drone greeted her in Russian. Tracer just smiled in return and kept herself moving. A partially built Svyatogor looked down at her, almost judgingly. Lena pointed a finger gun at it and mimed firing. She gave a friendly salute to a mural featuring world-famous Aleksandra Zarynova.

"This could not be a colder reception if they tried," she huffed. A warm cloud of white floated from her mouth. She wondered why she didn't dress in more layers. Her chronal accelerator only provided so much warmth. She also wondered about the lack of guards. Much of her intel told her this place was never so abandoned. Why now?

"Couldn't be they know I'm here and just want to surprise me for my birthday?" Lena asked the camera. "It was five months ago, you bastards!" she shouted as loud as she could. When no response reached her, she activated her earpiece. "Anyone on this channel?"

Several familiar voices answered her call. Lena gave a sigh of relief. "Well, cavalry. We can cancel the showy display. Think Jamison'll give us a refund on the custom fireworks?"

"Wait, what's the problem, boss?" one asked her.

"Volskaya knew I was coming. Place is quieter than an unusually quite church mouse."

Some groaned. "God damn that woman. How could she have known she was due for a visit?"

Tracer pondered that herself. A traitor wasn't likely, she had too much trust in her team and their want for truth and justice. _"And they all hate Katya Volskaya too. Wouldn't want anything to do with helping her… hmm."_

A cargo bot asked her a question in Russian. Lena politely told it to go soak its circuits. To her surprise, a harsh reply left its voicebox. In Spanish.

She knew that voice.

"Well, well, well," Lena began. "Oliver Colomar."

"Uh oh. Am I in trouble, Oxton?" his voice spoke through a cargo bot. "Loving the new get-up. The old purple jumpsuit looked like you raided my closet."

"What, you cosplay as me? I'm almost flattered," Tracer replied. A cargo bot swiveled around from behind Lena and examined her close. She could see her annoyed reflection in its glass. "You seem deterred," the hacker noted.

"Who, me? Perish the thought."

"Tracer! Is that- "another member of her team spoke.

"One of the most notorious hackers and biggest backstabbin' bastards in the world?" Lena sighed. "Yeah, that's him."

Sombra's bots chuckled. "Oh, stop, you. You can't flatter me away."

"Worth a shot. Guess I'll just flatten you instead," Lena replied before addressing her allies. "The plan's compromised. Get yourselves somewhere safe, now!" Tracer commanded them before ending the call.

"Ever the noble hero," said Sombra. "Don't be so concerned about them. Our mutual bud ain't paying me enough to deal with them."

Her fists clenched. "Might mean she's paying someone else."

"Oh, hmm. Well, when you put it like that… who cares. My concern is you."

Tracer's fists clenched. She became acutely aware of the cargo bots all watching her. Their flashing lights sparked with a purple tone. "We playin' hide-and-seek? Let me put it out there; cloakin' is cheatin'."

She could hear a crunch of some snack and a yawn from the cargo bots. "Not this time, amiga. Volskaya wouldn't cover that part of my fee. Said she would use a "real hero" for that."

"Huh?" Lena asked. _"A real hero? A real hero wouldn't be associated with you, Volskaya. Who could be so thick-headed to…" _An image of a blonde giantess appeared in her mind. Armed with a mighty particle cannon. "Oh, hell."

A bot gasped. "Did I say that out loud?" Sombra's tone dripped with something unkind. "Ah, well. You get what you pay for and such."

Tracer felt the severity of the situation. "As nice as it is to hear from you, I cannot stress how little time I have for this."

"Funny. I was led to believe you had all the time in the world."

Lena gave a so-so gesture. A cargo bot slammed into her stomach, carrying her into the air. _"Guess I'm doing this then. Don't go nowhere, Volskaya."_

Flicking her wrist, a pulse pistol was placed in her grasp. She fired all 20 rounds into the bot and felt it careen to the side. Blinking away from it, she landed on the partially built Syvatogor in time to watch the simple machine crack against the sturdy metallic ground.

"How'd you go from betraying Overwatch for the most infamous terrorist organization of our generation to doing tricks for our "mutual friend"?" Tracer asked as she somersaulted away from a barrage of kamikazeing cargo bots.

"It all started in the summer of '78. I met Volskaya on the island of Nunyabuisness." Colomar laughed to himself and the cargo bots mimicked it, a distorted, glitched version. "She was wearing such an ugly hat that day."

Lena fired her pistols at the onslaught of drones. More kept appearing from somewhere hidden to her. "Do I hear wedding bells?" she muttered under her breath as she Blinked in the direction of a massive warehouse.

"Hey now, where do you think you're going?" a bot asked in a British accent as the horde of them approached her.

"To beat up your boss on the most streamed livestream in the history of livestreams," Lena replied, firing as they came for her.

"When will you have time for that? Can we come with?"

Tracer's eyes narrowed as a wave surged ahead of her to block off her entrance. _"I guess you always pay Sombra's discretion fee." _Seeing the blockade made her pulse bomb tossing hand itch.

With a menacing laugh from Sombra, a bot flew at her legs to immobilize her. Blinking out of its path was easy, but too late she realized she was in the path of three others.

"Cheers, love! The calvary's here!" Sombra mocked her with an overexaggerated British accent as the cargo bots rushed her.

"Oh, shut up, would ya?" Tracer groaned. Arming herself with both pulse pistols, she fired at the drones swarming her. Avoiding the kamikazes of the cluster, she Blinked into a nearby stairwell. The bots flew after her, funneling through the entrance. Lena shot them as she ran. The damaged drones crashed into others, but it certainly didn't slow the rest down. More surged after her, clanging against the metallic walls around them.

"You really got me breaking a sweat here, you know?" said Sombra. "Maybe I oughta sit up for this one."

"Maybe you oughta point the business end of your gaudy gun at yourself and squeeze the trigger instead?" Lena suggested.

"W-w-woah!" came a chorus of murderous drones.

"Why do I get the feeling you don't like me?" the hacker asked, faking hurt.

"Bugger off, you know I don't," Tracer bit back.

"Aw," the drones replied.

"And I hate you all even more!" the Overwatch agent added before focusing her thoughts on not being in harm's way. Using her Recall ability, the world took on a blue hue as she flew backwards through the mass of bots. Her heart sank as she counted the numerous threats.

Now behind the opposition, Lena took her pulse bomb into her hands and threw it at the nearest drone. _"Damn. These aren't so easy to replace…" _she thought as it stuck to the bot with a _clink_ and got its attention on her. She waved.

"Dasvidaniya, cyka bly-," Tracer called as the blue explosion from her bomb cut her off, forming a chain of decimating power racing up the stairwell. She rolled her eyes as Sombra played tinny audio of screams while the bots ceased to exist.

"Well, I've just exhausted every Russian word I know. Think Volskaya'll teach me more?" she asked while turning to face her silent recording. Now uncloaked, Lena had the displeasure of seeing its lights blink with an obnoxious purple.

"Can't believe you actually let Emily near you with that foul-mouth. How is she these days, by the by?"

Tracer's eyes narrowed. "Get out of my recorder bot, Sombra."

"No. No, I don't think I will," her foe replied, making his voice sound ancient and gravelly. "I think I'll watch you and Volskaya's golden girl duke it out. The once honorable Overwatch cadet vs Russia's greatest warrior. Would you be willing to do an aftermath interview if you're still alive?"

"_Getting called 'once honourable' by the least honourable man in the world. At least Amari had a reason for killing the commander." _For the briefest moment, her mind flashed to seeing the video of Gabriel Reyes' death at the hands of his second-in-command. The unnatural yellow irises, the coldness the sniper exuded, the way she brutalized Captain Jack Morrison, the leader of her strike team and an old friend, it all left an imprint on Lena. It hurt."Sorry, but just being by a bot hacked by you makes me nauseous."

"I get nauseous too, you know?" Sombra said like he was talking to an old friend. "Usually when I use my translocator. I'm sure you know what I mean."

"Wouldn't be a problem if you disappeared forever," Tracer bit back.

"Where did our friendship go wrong, Lena?"

Tracer was seething now. "_Our friendship? _When we were Overwatch, you could've said that. But then you stole from Winston and joined freakin' Talon like it was nothing!"

Sombra was silent for a moment, the light hum of Tracer's recorder and the distant thunderous stomps of Svyatogor filling the air.

"Okay, look. When you put it like that it sounds pretty...not good. But that's all in the past, buddy! A otra cosa, mariposa."

Lena couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are you mental? If I ever find you, turncoat, I'll kill you."

"You'll never find me if I don't let you," Sombra replied. "And I'm thinking… maybe I don't ever let you."

"Smartest goddamn thing you've ever said." Tracer made a shooing gesturing. "Now, why don't you go swim with cinderblocks for shoes, you—"

"Holy shit…" was all Sombra said before jetting for something behind Lena. Instead of taking his absence as a blessing, Tracer felt curious. When the hacker gave a whooping laugh, it got the better of her and she had to see.

"Ugh, what are you on about…?" Tracer asked. Then she saw him. "Oh," was all she could manage before the stunned silence took her.

A man was observing her encounter. Orange tubing ran along his arms which held a powerful heavy pulse rifle. He wore dark camouflage and had a dark grey metallic chest with faint orange lights glowing. His snow-white hair was buzzed, but that and the crinkle in his brow were the only things that betrayed his age. With his strong robotic legs, he leapt through the air and landed arms-length away from her.

"Tracer," the legend said, simply nodding. His visor's orange light shined for a moment. A solid white "76" was displayed on his metallic frame.

The infamous, nigh-mythical Cyborg: 76 stood before her. Many called him an international terrorist. A murderer. She always found it interesting the only ones he had a grudge against were those she suspected were involved with Overwatch's death.

Her crew always wanted to bring him into their operations but getting in contact with him proved useless. He seemed to want to soldier on all on his own.

"_And here he is now. Right in front of me. I can actually touch him. No, don't really do it, ya weirdo. Wait, what did he say?"_

"Hiya," Lena began. "Nice of you finally join me. People have wanted us to collab forever." _"Among other things but let's not mention that."_

"Been busy," the cybernetic soldier said. "Katya Volskaya had Talon assassins disguised as Lumerico security personnel after your crew. I saved who I could but there were casualties on both sides."

Hearing that made her fists clench. Her heart ached. "Goddamn it…" was all she could say. Her mind held much darker thoughts.

"Guess you were right, Oxton," Sombra spoke from the drone. "If I can offer my condolences..."

"Sombra!" Tracer exploded. "I swear, I'll kill-!"

A flash of blue exploded from Cyborg:76's rifle. A pulse round tore through the metal of the recorder bot. It staggered through the air before crashing into the waters surrounding Volskaya Industries.

Lena gave a frustrated sigh. "Don't let him distract you. He'll get what's coming to him," her companion said. "We'll make sure of it."

"So, you joinin' up then?" she asked him.

"Yes. I think I will. Got an old friend who'd be interested to see you again." He left her side to examine the wall of cargo bots Sombra left behind. Not one dared to move out of place. She noticed the way he moved. Something familiar. Despite the robotics, Tracer was reminded of someone from her Overwatch days. A hero.

"An old friend, huh?" she asked, joining his side. An image was forming in her mind. "Overwatch?"

"Yeah, Overwatch," he replied. Taking aim with his rifle, he fired a volley of helix rockets at the blockade. The bots showered them with pieces of metal. They all gave that tinned scream. She paid it no mind, however. The image was complete.

"Is that you, Captain?" she whispered, not really intending for him to hear.

Yet, he did. The cyborg simply stated, "Not anymore."

* * *

The duo walked through the massive warehouse. More cargo bots floated throughout but none attempted to accost them. Not a guard in sight either, but that just kept them both on edge.

As they searched for Volskaya, the cyborg explained how the good doctor Angela Ziegler saved him from the brink of death at the hands of Ana Amari. He seemed pained recounting those early days, after learning of Overwatch's betrayal. A rage was within him, Lena knew. He went to work as soon as he was confident in the cybernetic replacements. Accompanied by Mercy, they waged war against gangs and corrupt businesses, all in search of the connection between them and whoever called for Overwatch's end. Lumerico Security had brought a certain vitrol out of her old friend.

"It's just another shell for Talon to work through."

"Why is it that everything wrong in our world all starts with them?" Lena asked.

"If only you knew. They really are everywhere but finding them isn't as easy as I'd like. They don't leave much to follow. Got some idea about Australia but Ziegler and I can't storm it alone."

"Need a pretty big team for that. And perhaps someone with an affinity for time manipulation."

"That'd do it," he replied.

"Oh, I'm in then," she affirmed. To stab at the heart of those that ruined her family was irresistible. "Did you know something was up about Volskaya?"

"Only a hunch. But seeing those Talon operatives fighting your team sealed it. The organization's making a big play and they needed all opposition out of the way." Turning to look at her, he added, "You've put up a fine fight, Oxton. If they wanted to handle you like this, it must mean something."

"Well, you know how my saying goes, Cap- uh, cyborg."

He gave a small smile. "Never could go longer than ten minutes before saying it again."

"_Back in the good ol' days…" _she thought. She knew he shared the sentiment. "Its catchy, you know. Real marketable."

"Sure enough, kid. Sure eno-" her companion paused in his tracks and she followed suit. His frown returned, deeper than before. His visor flared as his vision settled on something ahead of that. She followed his gaze and felt her face match his.

There she was. An imposing woman, her trademark pink particle cannon resting at her combat boots.

"Aleksandra Zarynova," Lena called out. She knew her pronunciation of it was poor.

"Cyborg:76 and the Time Racer! Please, just Zarya works fine," her voice boomed back. She looked rather warm in her snow colored combat jumpsuit.

"_What the hell did you call me?"_ she thought to say. Instead, she settled for "Charmed!" Leaning slightly closer to her cyborg companion, she whispered, "I'll take out her legs and you aim for her head." A slight turn in his head was all he gave to confirm he heard her.

"There is no need for anymore violence," Zarya called, as though there were some microphone enhancing Lena's side comment. She waved a hand through her short blonde hair. "Ms. Volskaya would like to speak with you both."

Beneath her goggles, her eyes widened. "No, she doesn't," she whispered, barely audible.

"Quite the reception, Zarynova," replied Jack Morrison. His pronunciation was much better than her own. "If she wanted to talk, why would she have a murderous hacker attack us first? Or have a terrorist cell kill those that want to expose her?"

"Please, settle down with your accusations. Ms. Volskaya is under threat from the very organization that you both fight. She needs your help." The legendary athlete sounded sincere, genuine concern in her voice.

Lena scoffed. She could feel her anger rising. "This is a bold-faced lie, Captain," she muttered under her breath. "And Volskaya's got the perfect dumbass to recite it."

"Thinking it's a trap then?" he asked in an equally hushed tone. She had to remind herself to strain to listen.

"Definitely."

"Then we're already prepared." Visor gently shining, the cyborg replied, "We'll come with you. But for our peace of mind, we'll be staying armed for this meeting."

Zarya's face flashed with disappointment. She sighed and muttered something in her native tongue. Rubbing her hands together, she reached down and armed herself with her particle cannon. Lena felt the adrenaline flare within her. She spared a quick glance at her old captain. _"This'll be a stomp," _she felt confident thinking.

Instead of a fight, Zarya called back, "She said that would be okay. Please, follow."

"Well, darn," Tracer muttered. Her companion nudged her, and the duo followed their escort deeper into the warehouse. For a time, not a word was shared by the trio. Lena herself was too focused on Zarya's threat potential to speak.

"Hopefully, Ms. Volskaya can reason with you," Zarya began, breaking the silence. "She truly is a victim in this."

Lena made no attempts to hide her disgust. "Guess she and Winston got more in common than I thought."

"She had nothing to do with that… being's slaying, Tracer." Lena noticed the pause in her words. The unfriendly tone to them. Her jaw clenched.

"Gorilla works better. Or scientist. Or, hell, gorilla scientist," the punk's pointed remarks came. "Or his actually bloody name too."

Zarya seemed to ponder that. The trio continued in silence, however. Holograms dotted and lined the walls with ultra-small Russian text Lena made no attempts to read. She wondered if the cyborg had a special translator fixed into his life-saving tech.

Scaling a set of stairs, Tracer couldn't help but feel some awe watching the Russian athlete easily maneuver her impressive weapon. "How'd you even end up in bed with the old girl?"

"Я не понимаю. I am not sleeping with Katya Volskaya," Zarya sounded genuinely confused.

"You know, maybe that's not what I meant?" Lena replied.

"She means how did you end up working for her," Cyborg:76 explained.

"Why did she not just say that?" the athlete retorted. "I was introduced to Ms. Volskaya months ago by a government representative. Our president was concerned for her safety and asked me to fulfill my civic duties and aid in her protection."

"And then you went above and beyond the call of duty and started involving yourself in her bedroom affairs?" Tracer asked.

"No," Zarya replied.

"Hmm," the punk replied.

"She became a valued friend. We bonded over our shared devotion to the homeland we love. I promise you; she is not a bad woman."

"_Oh, wow. Maybe she really doesn't know what I know?" _ "Hm-hmm," she settled on replying. _"Your head's stuffed with snow, lady." _Tracer found herself relishing the upcoming meeting.

Their burly escort halted at a set of immaculate steel double doors. "Here we are."

"Beginning of the end," replied Tracer. That earned her a glare from Zarya.

"Mind yourself within this office. Conflict is uncalled for. And would be very unfavorable for you both." She let the threat hang in the air before ushering them both inside.

The office of Katya Volskaya was an expensive one. State-of-the-art hologram projectors were scattered around detailing potential contractors and blueprints for an advanced Svyatogor. The air had spread warmth throughout her body, so much so she had to keep herself from audibly sighing with contentment. She noticed a photo of Volskaya holding a young child was present on her desk. She also took care to notice there was no immediate threat. Besides Zarya.

And there she was, sitting at her finely crafted desk. The woman of the hour. The coward who aided her friend's death. And she had the nerve to smile with a disarming gratitude.

Rising from her desk, Katya Volskaya beckoned them forward. Zarya immediately stepped over to her side. The glorified bodyguard's eyes never left Tracer or the old soldier. Yet Lena couldn't find it in herself to care.

"Lena Oxton, I am sorry," she began. "It's a tragedy this is how we finally meet. But with Talon watching my every move, this was the best that could be done."

"Lives were lost today," Tracer replied. "People dedicated to the cause of exposing the world's true criminals. It's murderers, it's thieves. They died believing you were such a person."

Such a sympathetic look the older woman gave Lena. "I can only imagine the hate you must have for me. If I were you, I know I would too."

"_You can't even begin to imagine. No, you can't possibly begin."_

"But I'm forced into this situation, same as you both."

"We've already heard that from your friend here," said the cyborg. "How about you start telling us something new?"

"Of course," Volskaya replied, smoothing out her solid white uniform. "You've met the Shadow, the сукин сын outside, haven't you?"

"Of course, we did. He said you hired him."

"A falsehood. A lie."

"Oh, I know what a lie is," Lena affirmed.

Volskaya's eyes drifted to the holo-monitor on her desk. "Three years ago," she began whilst typing, "the Shadow came here along with two other Talon members to kill me. They murdered several of my guards before reinforcements fought them back." She sighed. "I thought I was safe. Then he appeared right where you're standing. He wished to blackmail me into… owing him a favor. One he could use at any time he desired."

A video was projected in front of her desk. A hidden camera recorded the meeting of Sombra and Volskaya. Video-Sombra held up a bloody gloved palm and a grainy image appeared in a hologram. Hard to discern from the video but whatever it was, it made video-Volskaya uncomfortable.

"_Of course, I'll keep it to myself. That's what a good friend would do. Ain't that right, good friend?" _the hacker coaxed. Video-Volskaya simply nodded, looking sick.

"What does he have on you?" Morrison asked.

"A secret from my past, best left where it is. If brought to the present, it'd cause discord throughout my company."

"My heart goes out to you," said Tracer.

"So, Talon wanted you dead. Why were operatives disguised as Lumerico security forces attacking Tracer's team in St. Petersburg?" asked Cyborg:76.

"Once again, Sombra's doing. In the public, Lumerico and my company have a good business relationship. But behind closed doors, Lumerico is a front for Talon. Why they came to "defend" me this time, I do not know. Maybe a suggestion from our mutual enemy perhaps?" She paused. "Again, I'm not supposed to draw breath anymore. There's no other reason why they would defend me from someone coming to attack me."

And for a moment, doubt started to take root in Lena's mind. She knew who Oliver Colomar was now. She knew what he could do as Sombra. The words Volskaya spoke didn't surprise her. Some part of her was able to believe this poor woman was being taken advantage of by her old ally-now enemy.

Yet she still had her own intel on her mind. Information taken straight from the hard-light magnate, Vishkar International during a stealth operation. It had damned Katya Volskaya thoroughly.

"_So why the damned doubt, Lena?" _she berated herself. She addressed her companion. "Don't suppose lie-detecting tech was in the budget?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"_Well, hell." _Lena turned her attention back to Volskaya. "You know, its just the damnedest thing. But when I was down by Vishkar, you know Vishkar, right? Well, they just had some real interesting things about you on their private servers."

Volskaya sighed, showing light annoyance. _"Sorry I'm not as easy as your lap dog here." _

"And what did you find that was so condemning you had to come all this way?"

"A joint project between Vishkar and your company to create a real special kind of weapon. A sniper rifle designed to fire hard-light rounds at obscene speeds. Kind of thing that drops a genetically enhanced gorilla with one shot."

To her credit, Volskaya showed genuine disgust. "I know everything there is to know about my company, Tracer! There's no chance of such an undertaking occurring without my explicit consent."

"Who you trying to convince here, snips?" Lena replied. "I know I saw your signature on the commission forms!" Her anger was rising. Her chronal accelerator felt heavier? Why?

"A fabrication. A fake!" Volskaya replied, no longer hiding her annoyance.

"A fabrication, says she," Tracer muttered. "**A fake**, she says," Lena mocked her, much to Zarya's annoyance. Now her head was buzzing. _"Why?"_

"You mentioned Colomar wanted a favor from you, Volskaya. What did he want?" the old soldier asked.

"A great question, Cyborg:76!" Tracer exclaimed. "What say you, Katya?"

And it was that question that made her pause. Katya Volskaya blinked. After the briefest of moments, she simply replied, "He hasn't collected it yet."

There was something Tracer wanted to say but as she opened her mouth to speak, her vision began to swim.

She felt lightheaded.

It was as if she were looking at the world through cornflower-tinted glasses. A blue-toned cyborg asked a blue-toned Volskaya a simple question. A simple, quick glance was her answer. It concerned Lena enough that she tried her best to trace her gaze, smoothing her pink hair from her face. Far too late, a distant white glint caught her eyes. A flash of blue. Something sped at her companion. Lena reached for him and… a gloved hand was wrapped around her throat. Red irises pierced the darkness to stare into her eyes. A red light was filling her vision. Was she dying? She was dying. **She was dying.** This was her death, her end,** the end of everything.**

A brisk shake from her friend brought her back. Her vision was returning to normal, but her head was heavier now. He said nothing, but the way he examined her made Lena think he was concerned.

"_What the hell was that?" _"What was that?" she whispered. It was so surreal… "So real," she muttered.

"Time Racer?" Zarya inquired "Are you alright?"

"Oh, would you… I'm fine!" Lena insisted, only barely convincing herself. _"What the hell was that?" _Suddenly, the world was much smaller. Her head ached. "Don't… don't change the subject."

"She's… right," the cyborg stated. He took his hand from her shoulder. "I asked you a question, Volskaya."

"_He did? He did. Then…" _her thoughts were cluttering her mind. She fixed her eyes on Volskaya, acting on memory.

The glance to the window.

Lena's hand was smoothing her hair before she realized what was happening.

The glint from afar.

Tracer's eyes widened. She wrapped her arms around her ally and Blinked away from the window and by the office's entrance. Her streak of blue was fading fast. But another from the now-cracked window was still visible.

"Damn it, we're under attack!" Zarya growled. Her particle cannon blazed to life, a blue orb crackling in the center of her torso.

"That was for us," Morrison seethed. She thought he did anyway. The blood was pounding in her ears. He fixed his grip on his pulse rifle and aimed it right at Zarynova. The athlete's eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing, machine man? We are being shot at!" she demanded. "Lower your weapon and help me protect-!"

Katya Volskaya. _"You knew…" _was all Tracer could think. All her suspicions were now confirmed.

Flicking her wrist, a pulse pistol was in her grasp. With the fury in her heart, pulling the trigger was the only logical conclusion. And so, she did. A volley of pulse rounds fired true towards a horrified Katya Volskaya… yet broke against a blue bubble shield.

"You knew!" Lena shrieked at both Zarynova and Volskaya. She Blinked away from her companion's side, crossing the office in a flash. Almost as quick, Zarya placed herself in Tracer's path, smacking her away with her weighty weapon.

"Какого черта ты делаешь? Have you lost your mind?" the athlete's anger was flaring.

"This was a goddamn setup!" the cyborg shouted. He fired at Zarya who encased herself in a blue bubble. A glare. The Russian woman's eyes flickered between Tracer and the cyborg, not sure who to focus on.

Nobody moved. Lena couldn't take her eyes from Volskaya. She looked afraid. And ashamed. That damning guilt.

"Secure Volskaya, Oxton!" her old boss ordered, firing at Zarynova. "We need her alive!"

"Keep back!" the athlete roared. She pulled a handle on her weapon and fired a beam of deadly energy at their feet.

"_A warning? She's confused." _"She doesn't know then, doesn't understand, doesn't want to? Stupid, dumb, idiot, loyal," Lena muttered to herself. "Get out of my way, Zarya," she commanded. "Volskaya's guiltier than sin. She's got a lot to answer for."

"Besides the shooter outside, you and the machine are the only dangers present. Stay back and reconsider the situ-"

Tracer Blinked towards at the athlete and let her pulse pistol connect to her thick neck. Quickly Blinking behind her as she struggled to regain her breath, Lena leapt and kicked her forward towards the cyborg.

"Handle her!" she shouted before rounding on the guilty party.

"Ms. O-Oxton, w-wait-" Katya Volskaya begged, stumbling backwards.

"Its "Ms. O-Oxton" now, is it?" Tracer growled and wrapped her hands around her foe's neck.

Lena heard a something like a warcry from behind her and a metallic grinding. Chancing a glance behind, she saw Morrison and Zarya wrestling for the particle cannon. Zarya's hand pulled the trigger back and the cannon spewed beams of energy. The blue beam cut the roof of the office, letting in more of the chilled air.

"He wants you alive," Tracer began, her eyes boring into Volskaya. "But I want you dead. One of these is more likely to occur than the other. Wanna guess which?"

Volskaya blanched but steadily raised her arms above her head. "I had no choice in the manner," she said in a measured voice. So close to death but so calm now.

"I can't stomach anymore of your rubbish. I'm sick of it!" she replied, a loud _clang! _ringing behind her. _"You had better not be losing back there."_

"My daughter's safety will always be my first concern, Tracer!" Volskaya roared back. So close to death but so defiant now. "I'd do anything if it meant she'd live free of fear."

"_Can't you understand?" _she heard in her mind. Why would she ask herself that? "Shut up," she growled to herself. Fear flashed in Volskaya's eyes.

A rough hand pulled Tracer away from her target. Another lifted her into the air and flung her across the office into a wall of awards. The impact had stung more than she hoped it would.

She huffed and rose up in time to see a massive foot flying for her face. Blinking out of the way, she placed herself in front of the cracked window. A rush of freezing air hit her back as she rose to her full height. She narrowed her eyes as Zarya approached her. Readying herself, she flicked her wrist and another pulse pistol was in her grasp. Before she could fire however, strong metallic arms wrapped around Zarya's waist and, lifting her into the air, suplexed her.

Tracer watched as the old captain quickly rose back up and grabbed at Zarya's combat armor. Showing impressive strength, he flung her through the office double doors, taking them both off their hinges.

"_Well, holy hell…" _Lena thought to herself.

"Yeah, I've got her handle now. Oxton, do not kill Katya Volskaya. We need to extract as much information from her as we can."

"Oh, I can get to work on that for you, Cap. Just keep her playmate out for a moment, won'tcha?"

A string of enraged Russian curses came from outside the office.

"Alive, Lena," he reaffirmed. The cyborg sprinted out of the doorway for the second round.

"Noted," she muttered. "Where were we, Volskaya?" Lena asked turning to the woman in question. "I think you were begging for your life."

"I… I won't beg. But I won't say anything about Talon's activities either," Volskaya sounded certain. "If it means dying today, then let it come."

"The captain'll be so disappointed," Tracer said, crossing back to Volskaya.

Barely a second had passed before her side exploded in pain. It was so sudden, her breathing stopped althougher. Her hearing wasn't as great as it was moments ago either. Volskaya's eyes went wide. She covered her mouth as Tracer fell to the ground. Another hard-light round had been fired and found its mark, inches away from cracking her chronal accelerator.

She wanted to swear but couldn't. Even her mind went blank. Time felt like it had come to a standstill, just for her. Red slowly creeped into her vision, followed by the murky darkness.

It took everything to focus, to force her mind to think of one word.

"_Recall…" _and that blessed weightlessness took her as her world went dark.

The black faded, as did the red, replaced by a soothing blue light. Lena could feel her wound closing around the empty space the round had made. She thought she felt her organs moving back into place too._ "Thanks, Slipstream."_

Blinking as soon as she was upright, Tracer closed the distance to Volskaya and slammed her against the wall, knocking pictures down around them.

"Who. Is. That. Goddamned. Sniper?" her voice was a low growl.

"I-I… I don't…"

"It's the one who killed Winston, isn't it? There's only one rifle like that in this world. And why would Talon ever deprive the sniper who killed a leading Overwatch member with it of it?"

"I don't know her name! Some… some woman with blue skin and unnatural eyes!"

Lena couldn't hide her shock. "Oh… oh, why?"

"S-Sombra referred to her to as ""Widowm-"

"Shut up!" Tracer shouted as she threw Volskaya over her desk. Blinking after her, she grabbed Volskaya by her uniform and held her in front of the broken window. Volskaya's breathing quickened.

"_Glad Morrison isn't here to see this," _Tracer thought to herself. Why did she even care?

Two sets of heavy footsteps rushed up the stairs. _"Do me one last favor, Captain."_

"No!" she heard from Volskaya's bodyguard. Sighing with annoyance, Lena flicked her wrist to aim at her opponent but paused when she saw the particle cannon in her hands.

A moment too long. Zarya's suit funneled energy through her gloves and into the weapon. She pulled her trigger with such force, Lena briefly wondered if it would break off.

A ball of dark blue energy hit the center of the office and expanded upon contact with the ground. A field surrounded Tracer and Volskaya and yanked them away from the window into the swirling mass. Lena thought to Blink away but whatever energy the gravity ball was putting out kept that from happening.

"You're really getting on my nerves!" Tracer shouted over the loud noise the energy was giving. Everything not bolted down was flying at them now. A trophy smacked her in the back of her head.

Zarya reached through the field, seemingly protected by her suit, and pulled Volskaya free. Lena could see Morrison taking cover from behind the bending doorframe. The window finally gave way and let cold air flood into the once warm space.

Once the cold air smacked into her, she became acutely aware she was left undefended in this swirling vortex. Spinning herself around, she could another glint from Ana Amari's rifle.

"_No Blinks, no Recall. Guess this is it then." _All she could feel was tired. She waited.

A rough hand grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the field, just in time for a hard-light round to speed above her head.

"This is over, Tracer," she heard Zarya say as she pushed her away. "Your friend will confirm."

"Is that so?" Lena asked, sighing. Whatever it was that Zarya had shot out was now dying down. "Do confirm, friend."

"We're bringing her in, Oxton," Morrison called from the doorframe. He gestured for the three to walk over to his side. "End of story. You'll get much more satisfaction out of her being exposed and shamed than just killing her.

"I think it's more a matter of personal preference, honestly."

His visor flared at her. _"That your angry face now?" _She rose her hand in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. But you should know. When I tried interrogating her, she made it clear she wouldn't talk. Something something "daughter's safety", or whatever crock she tells herself."

"She will," was all he offered.

"Hmm. And why the sudden switch, Zarya?" she asked the athlete. "Didn't think you had it in you. The common sense, I mean."

Instead of answering her barbs, Zarya focused on her friend. "It's true then? You are affiliated with Talon?"

Lena could see how much Volskaya wanted to sink through the floor. "Yes."

"That Mr. Grigori… whatever his name was. Him too?"

"Yes."

"All of Russia's elected officials?"

Katya sighed. "Most. The important ones are."

The pain on Zarya's face almost stung Lena. _"Got your world turned upside down and now its crashing all around you." _

"How do you… how do we win against this force if they've already corrupted the world?" Zarya asked Morrison.

"With people like Tracer, who already know the truth. With people like you, who will take up arms when they learn the truth. And with help from you, Volskaya."

"I can't! My daughter-"

"Will be brought along with you. We move quick, she'll be with us in no time."

Volskaya fell silent. Today was too was much for Lena. She didn't know what to think. "She helped kill Winston, Jack. We don't even know how many others that Am- sniper's killed."

Did he hear what she wanted to say? If he did, he made no mention of it. "Right now, she's our best lead at fighting Talon, Tracer. What did Winston die for? Trying to right Overwatch's death and find those accountable? Its easier with her alive."

She could feel her throat closing. "Right," was all she supplied. _"It makes sense." _"Oh, go to hell," she whispered as low as she could to herself. "What a creative way to waste time and lives, Captain."

"It's not for nothing."

And there the four of them waited. It felt like eternity.

* * *

Sneaking back to Tracer's temporary warehouse with Katya Volskaya, an obviously extensively cybenetically enhanced man, and the most recognizable woman in Russia was another massive undertaking on its own. Signally for a pickup, a heavily battered hovertruck came into their view from where Lena had started her operation hours ago. Blinking the group across one at a time, the driver didn't seem to notice neither the cyborg nor the most famous weightlifter in the world enter the backseat. Even Tracer herself got little more than absentminded nod in her direction. A small spark did come back to him when he saw Katya Volskaya in their custody.

"You know where to go," was all Lena said before sinking into her seat and shutting her eyes. _"This day has been too long."_

The ride was silent, not a word spoken. Lena's body had no ache to it, but there was a mentally tiredness that came along with it. She had no objections when her old captain suggested she stay behind and rest while he went after Volskaya's daughter. She wished him luck before he left. She thought she heard him say something about wanting to talk when he returned.

Lena couldn't bear facing the remaining survivors of her group, not in the mental state she was in. Once she saw how empty Maurice Holloway's eyes were, she knew she could do nothing.

"Sleep," she had muttered to some. "We got Volskaya," she would whisper to others. "Tomorrow, we do real damage."

Scaling the stairs, she could feel a pull. _"Its time for bed, Lena," _she told herself. "Tomorrow can't be worse than today."

It was nigh-pitch black within her office. Her motion-sensor lighter/heater wouldn't come on, no matter how many times she waved a hand in front of it. It was annoying, but she was too tired to care. Besides her chronal accelerator, the only other glowing object was her hologram board of news articles.

Did she leave this on? _"Waste of power, Lena," _she chastised herself. However, she sat on her desk anyway and examined that one particular article. Her chronal accelerator felt heavy.

"Did I do right by you, big guy?" was all she could ask. _"Too little, too late," _she imagined him saying to her. Her eyes stung. She yanked her goggles of and let the tears flow free. What could she say to that?

"You did the best you could, Lena," she heard her voice say. Her head was buzzing again. She didn't remember saying anything.

"If he was anything like my Winston, he would've loved you regardless of any failing." That was her voice. But she didn't say that. Why would she say that?

"…what?" Lena said with her own mouth, her own words.

"I would know best," she heard herself say.

Behind her.

Her breathing hitched. She slowly rose from her seated position. Her chronal accelerator… why was it so damned heavy?

"Look at me, Lena."

Her heart was racing now. It wasn't in her head. It should've been in her head, why wasn't it in her head?

"Look at me."

She turned slowly. When she saw the glowing red irises, she stumbled back into her hologram post-it board. It blazoned to live and gave enough light for her to see herself.

A splitting image of herself stood in front of her desk, only arm's length away from where she sat seconds ago. This… stranger wore a jumpsuit like what she herself used to wear when she was Overwatch, yet this one was blacker than the night sky with blood-red straps instead of white and no lacing on the outer leg. She even had a black version of her own pilot jacket. One arm had the uncomfortably familiar Tracer patch on it, right where her's always was. But the other arm had one she knew she knew but couldn't recall now. She looked so much like her.

But her eyes. Blackened sclera and red irises. So very unlike her own eyes.

But it was herself she was looking at. "W-What… what are you?" she asked with her own mouth, her own words.

"Not "Who are you?"?" the woman before her asked, an apologetic smirk on her face. "Sorry, I'm sorry. Its not funny. Just… you're the first to ask "what" instead of "who"."

"What are you?" Lena said with more force than she thought she had in her.

"Well, I'm you but from an alternate universe," the red-eyed Lena Oxton said, a solemnness to her words. "A very different one. I'm sorry, I didn't think to bring any visual aids."

"…alternate universe?" the punk replied.

"What, is it so hard to believe? You were the pilot of a time machine. What's a little multiverse theory confirmation to that?"

"Why are you here?" her head ached. This couldn't be happening.

Unblinking, her other gave her a sad smile. "I'm here to kill you."

The punk's eyes narrowed. With the flick of two wrists, she-

In the blink of an eye and a flash of red, her other grabbed her by the neck and slammed her back against the metal board behind her, breaking it. Her grip was tight on her neck, the red of her eyes penetrating. Her other's chronal accelerator's light swirled to life, bathing the two in a crimson glow.

"Didn't even ask why," this threat said to her. "Fair enough, of course. If it were me in your position, I'd just skip to gunplay myself."

She struggled for what felt like forever. And the threat to her life just waited, patient. So certain she wouldn't break free from her crushing grip. She couldn't. The punk tried to Blink away but trying it just left her feeling immensely drained. A mistake.

"_My last one," _she thought to herself. She weakly rose a hand to strike her other's face, but there was no force to it. There was nothing behind it. Her other simply caught it in her free hand and held it. In agony, she realized not to restrain her, but to comfort her.

"Why…?" was all she could ask. Her chronal accelerator was sparking again. _"Why?"_

And so was her killer's. "Does it still matter?"

"_Yes, of course," _the punk wanted to say. But her mouth failed her, her words caught in her throat. The world was turning red.

"This isn't for nothing. I… I'm not doing this for nothing."

What did she say? Oh, Lena couldn't hear her anymore. Couldn't see her very well either. Her eyes, however, she could see fine.

Oh, she was dying.

She was dying.

"_Oh, Ems. I…"_

**She was dying.**

"_Emily…"_

This was her death, her end, **the end of everything**.

* * *

Lena Oxton sighed. Her head was pounding. Lightheaded. Another other killed, but still no difference.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She had enough energy to jump again.

As part of her routine, she examined the results she held in her hand. She had to.

Her hot pink hair was tousled and lost its shine, her skin slightly greyed and slick with sweat. She was limp. Lena wondered once again what it was like to have your very essence drained from the mind down. She took the body of this Earth's Lena Oxton and walked her over to her bed. Laying her down, she brushed the hair from her face and whispered an apology. Then, she closed her eyes and focused. The world fell from her as she floated amongst the stars. A swirl of blues, violets, and white whirled around her and through her and over her and below her.

In this world of cerulean, she was the only red thing to be seen. It reminded her she didn't belong. As if she needed more. "Just one more," she tried to tell herself. It worked once, when she started this horrible objective of hers.

But since then, she learned how to tell when she was lying to herself. It was a comfort she wanted nothing more than to deny herself. To stop lying.

"Just one more."


End file.
